Friday night, Olie came down with a 103-degree fever, chills, and a headache. Madhubby and I could tell something was wrong when she preferred to sit by the fire bowl instead of joining her sister and friends in a friendly two-on-two soccer game, but we didn't realize how ill she was. Earlier in the evening, I'd administered some Peppermint Oil to ease her headache - it worked - but I didn't realize she was running a fever until after her friend went home and Olie was changing for bed. I feared the worst: the flu but we waited until Saturday morning to call the pediatrician.
The diagnosis on Saturday was "some kind of virus." The instant Strep test was negative and flu was not mentioned as a possibility. The on-call pediatrician sent us home with a smile and a prescription for chicken soup. Gee, thanks. Could you be a little more vague?! I wanted to yell at her. I don't think I'm freaked out enough by my six-year old daughter's cherry red countenance. She only looks like a freakin' tomato, but oh, chicken soup will cure it, you say?
Olie's fever finally broke Monday morning or around the time my throat began to close up. A quick household check revealed the same symptoms for Lizzie. I'm sure it's just "some kind of virus," which means it's impervious to over-the-counter remedies. Still, I've been popping Zinc tablets and drinking fizzy concoctions every few hours hoping that I can avoid a full blown illness. I've got brunch planned on Thursday and I don't think my guests would be too pleased if I served them bread pudding with a side of mucus.