Miss Petra seems to have been sick every other week recently. A cold, one of those ghastly 24 hour vomiting bugs that always seem to kick in at 2:30 am and keep you up puking until dawn, and this week, a nasty cough and a reasonably high temperature. This last one has been a bit scary for us all because we’ve been unpleasantly reminded of Petra’s pneumonia experience last year. That started with a cough and a temperature as well, and finished up with two nights in hospital receiving intravenous antibiotics.
We went to the doctor yesterday to ease our minds and the nice young woman we saw examined Petra thoroughly, jollied her along, and gave us a suitably reassuring diagnosis. She made no attempt to offer antibiotics, which was a relief because Petra’s thoroughly opposed to the whole idea after the queasy-making concoctions she had to take last year. We tried to hide the taste in smoothies and ice-cream and other drinks with limited success. Petra hasn’t had a smoothie since and the sight of orange-chip ice cream at her grandmother’s reduced her to tears on our latest visit to Dunedin. Pneumonia is a traumatic business.
Petra’s a lot better today. Her temperature stayed pretty much normal throughout the day and the cough’s improved. She’s just knackered, white-faced and black-eyed, and generally looking like she’s gone a few rounds with a number 5 London bus. Cross fingers for a recovery in time to go back to school next week.
All the illnesses have meant that I’ve been stuck at home. I’ve had to cancel appointments. My newly set up desk is still unused. And it’s not possible to do even the small things like picking up a few things from the supermarket or visiting the library or walking the dog in the lovely spring weather. I’m getting cabin fever.