Chapter 14
Fever
Hildy
I’m next to Lucy with the lamp turned low, the room dim enough for her to sleep but light enough so I can watch her. Her breathing is no longer uneven, which was terrifying, but I held it together, because Lenzin was ready to crack, and someone had to. I keep my hand resting lightly on her back so I can feel the rise and fall without waking her.
She’s warm. Not dangerously so. But warm enough that my mind won’t shut up.
I pull my phone from my pocket and angle it away from the bed.
Me:
Hey. Quick question, and I promise I’m not panicking (I am). Lucy has a low-grade fever. We were at the pediatrician’s today. Would you take her to the ER or wait?
The typing bubble appears almost immediately.
Claudia:
Deep breath. How high is “low-grade”?
Me:
99.9. She’s tired, a little glassy, but responsive. Ate lunch and then snacks at Pembrooke’s. No vomiting.
There’s a pause. I can picture Claudia exactly, probably leaning against a counter, phone balanced in one hand, already switching into triage mode.
Claudia:
Unlikely she picked something up at the doctor’s office that fast. Did she get any shots today?
I close my eyes briefly.
Me:
No. But she has several she needs.
Claudia:
Okay. Future you needs to know that they love to say immunizations don’t cause fevers, but they absolutely can in some people. Bodies aren’t machines. But for now, if her fever creeps higher, alternate Tylenol (ever 4 hours) and ibuprofen (every 8 hours). Fluids. Rest. Call me if you need me, I’m available. And if you get to 104, I’ll meet you at the hospital.
My shoulders loosen just a fraction as she sends the hospitals ranked closest, then the best. I copy it into my notes.
Another message comes in.
Claudia:
And if calling her pediatrician makes you feel better, do it. That’s what they’re there for.
Me:
Thank you. I owe you my sanity.
Claudia:
You don’t. You’re doing fine.
Me:
