Startled, I stammer, “Oh, uh, yeah! He’s not feeling well. He has a fever and seems to have some weakness in his limbs.”
“Who is this?” he asks. “Are you a family member?”
I’m caught off-guard by the question, then manage to stutter, “Uh…I’m his fiancee.”
“Ah, good. Okay, what other symptoms does he have? Any coughing? Headache?”
“Um, no. Nothing like that yet.”
“What’s his temperature?”
“102.2.”
“All right,” he says matter-of-factly, “give him plenty of fluids, keep him in clean, cool clothes, and make sure he drinks some water before he sleeps. Acetaminophen is fine for the fever. As a whole, though, it might be a rough night, and this is something that needs to run its course.”
“Okay,” I nod. “I can do all that.”
“If he doesn’t show improvement by morning, or if his condition worsens during the night, call me back and we’ll reassess.”
“All right. Thank you, doctor.”
I hang up the call and tuck my phone away. Hurrying back to Jayce’s side, I touch his shoulder and wake him back up.
“Hey, no sleeping just yet,” I tell him gently. “I need to get you some water first.”
He blinks and nods. “Okay…I am really thirsty, actually.”
Giving him a reassuring smile, I rush out of the room to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Returning to him, I help him take a few sips then let him lay back down.
“You can go to sleep now if you want,” I murmur, brushing my fingers through his hair. “I’ll be right here.”
He nuzzles into my palm and closes his eyes. When he falls asleep, he looks so peaceful that some of my anxiety eases. This might not be as bad as I was anticipating.
Famous last words.
Jayce’s temperature drops a bit, thankfully, but he struggles with the fever symptoms more through the night. He’s wracked with chills and soaks his clothes in sweat so much that I have to change him three times. Before the third change, I help him into the shower. He has to lean against me as we make our way into the bathroom. Not wanting to risk him falling, I strip us both andget him under cool water spray. He groans and drops his head to my shoulder as I rub the back of his neck with a wash cloth.
“Thank you,” he mumbles, his lips pressed against my shoulder.
“You’re welcome,” I reply. “Don’t worry. I’m going to get you through this.”
As the night progresses, I give him water, wipe his forehead with a cool rag, and murmur what I hope are words of encouragement as he shivers and curls in on himself.
All the while, my own fear threatens to drown me. It only gets worse as I grow exhausted, my logical thoughts standing no chance against my panicked ones. As tired as I am, there’s no way I’m going to sleep. I refuse to leave his side. Anxiety is like a vice around my chest, squeezing tighter and tighter until I feel like I’m going to pop.
Still, I fight to hold it together and focus on Jayce. He needs me, and I’m not going to let him down like I did Colson.
About four in the morning, he falls into a somewhat calm sleep. I climb up into the bed next to him and put his head in my lap so I can stroke his forehead.
“You’ll be okay, Jayce,” I murmur. “I’m not leaving you.”
He can’t hear me, but he curls into me, as if he’s clinging to me even in his sleep. Something in me settles and I feel my anxiety start to melt away.
I’m not letting it win. Not tonight.
Tonight, my need to care for Jayce is stronger than my fear.
Tonight, I win.
