This is a fictional story written for the Story Cabin's writing prompt "Fever" performed by Peggy Lee.
Her husband was a truck driver, gone more than he was not. It was little wonder that when he did come home their passion burned so brightly and she had ended up pregnant again. Who would have dreamed such feverous hot passionate $ex could come to this? Caitlyn accepted the fact that she had to soldier on alone. It was simply the way things were. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Caitlyn knew that thepregnancywas rough. It seemed every time the wind blew, she vomited. Her coloring always was white and pasty tinged with green. Big as a beached whale, she could barely move, and with each day her pregnancy progressed she became more tired. She just wanted to make it to the planned c-section, have the baby, and then with the help of pain meds go on. Finally the c-section was scheduled. She could only pray this time she would have a healthy baby and everything would be OK.
The day came when she had to be at the hospital for her pre-op appointment. They would check her blood pressure, her weight, her temperature, whatever they did to clear her for surgery and then she would be on her way. Home she would go to pack her bag, clean her house if she had the energy, and prepare everything for the arrival of her newborn. She was excited for the birth, but she would have been lying if she wasn’t a little scared. She had been down this road before although she had never traveled as far. The only other time she had been pregnant she had lost her baby at 5 months. It had been devastating. She vowed to never try to become pregnant again. It was just too painful. Pregnancy was too hard. Why would anyone go through that hell voluntarily? She knew deep down, that she would. She wanted a baby. She had always wanted children of her own and as the years slipped by, the need became more urgent. That is probably why when the test was positive all those months ago her feelings were mixed with fear and excitement.
She woke early in spite of restless sleep from lower back pain for most of the night. The baby hadn’t moved much lately, but she wasn’t alarmed after all there couldn’t be a spare inch left for her precious bundle to move at this point. She started the day with her face in the toilet, much like every other day. She was so tired of vomiting. “It will all be over soon.” she comforted herself. She cleaned up, and with keys in hand went to the hospital to make her appointment on time. The day was hot and humid, but strangely she felt cold. Because of that, she switched off the air conditioning half way there and turned up the radio instead.
The nurse asked the usual questions. As each preliminary test was performed, the nurse became more obviously alarmed. When she was asked to step onto the scale, the world tilted and Caitlyn lost consciousness and fell to the floor. Smelling salts were fetched and soon she was revived wondering where she was and what had happened. The nurse had called for assistance, her doctor had been notified, and she realized she was being transported upstairs. There would be no going back home to pack. They told her they had notified her husband and he was on his way. Her mind struggled to process all of this, but she found she was too tired and simply couldn’t.
When she woke again she was in a room hooked to every machine imaginable and her husband was at her side. They weren’t alone. Her doctor was prepped for surgery. When he noticed she was conscious he moved to her side. He took her hand and looked into her eyes and explained she was not doing well. She was running a fever, the baby wasn’t responding as it should, and they were preparing her for surgery. They had to get the baby out in order to save it and her. “Not again!!” her mind screamed. She nodded her understanding and then once again closed her eyes. She was tired, and she was cold. She was terrified. “Please G0d, save my baby!! Please!!” she begged.
She was rushed to surgery, her husband at her side dressed in surgical scrubs holding her hand the whole way. “Stay with me!!” she begged him. Everyone told her that everything would be fine. They kept talking. She didn’t have the energy to answer them. She told them again she was cold, so very cold. Someone placed a warm blanket over her. They transferred her to the operating table, holding her as the anesthesiologist did his magic and administered the epidural. A sharp pain shot down her leg, and then she felt no more. She looked into her husband’s eyes as her baby was pulled from the incision exposing her womb. The little girl cried lustily. She took in the beauty of her daughter, smiled, and closed her eyes drifting away into the abyss for the last time.
The complications had been too great. The fever had burned too long and too hot. She died knowing her daughter would go on without her. The fever had triumphed in the end taking a life for a life until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.
After my son’s accidenton Thursday I haven’t slept much. My constant battle with the fever that cropped up early Saturday morning has left me feeling strung out and overly tired. The doctor has prescribed rest and antibiotics for my son. I wish he would have prescribed some for me. I desperately need some. Despite my ministrations, his fever raged on through all of Saturday and into today causing my worry to escalate and more intense one on one phone consultations with our doctor.
I feel as I have been transported back into time to the days when my son was a newborn and I would constantly check on him while he was sleeping to insure he was in fact breathing. I was a typical mother of a newborn. I hovered over my baby worrying about whether he was breathing, eating enough, sleeping enough, crying to much, or if his poop was the right consistency. I must have driven our doctor insane with my worries! Since my son’s concussion I have been frozen in a constant state of worry. Yes, I have prayed. I have found seeing our doctor and trusting him to have the situation well in hand has calmed my fears a bit. The adrenaline that fueled my panicked worry has fled me and left me feeling strung out and exhausted. I still worry that my son will miss another day of school due to the fever that has stuck around. The rule of thumb is that a child must be fever free for a full 24 hours before he is able to return to school. As of yet, that hasn’t happened.
I counted my blessings that at least he hadn’t vomited and only felt nauseated. Feeling nauseated is perfectly normal when there is swelling on the brain they say. Then my son vomited, and that obviously temporary feeling of things returning to as they should be fled and the worries returned.
I am so tired, but do I dare rest? He may need me. There is laundry to finish up. The groceries had to be bought and put away. The dishes had to be done. I must write to fulfill my goal to blog each day for NaBloPoMo. Is the washing machine and dryer finished with their cycles all ready? The silence tells me they are. It is time to put in more and fold more. It is fast approaching 7:00 pm. There is supper to be fixed and eaten.
Where did the day go? Why do I feel like I haven’t accomplished a thing when I have? Go lie down and rest my husband insists on one of his many calls today. I can’t. I must do this, this, this, and this first. It is time for my son to have more antibiotic again. It is never ending and time marches on leaving me in the dust. Am I moving in slow motion while the clock speeds up? There is no rest for the wicked, but hopefully one day soon there will be until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.
If you think about it, a person makes decisions from the time you wake until you lay down to sleep at night. Today the powers that be at NaBloPoMo are interested in any decision making I have made recently.
Last night my daughter came home with a severe sore throat, swollen glands, and a temperature soaring to 102 degrees. This morning when she only felt a tad better I made the executive decision to keep her home from school. Sometimes you have to do that when you are a parent. You have to make the decision about how sick your child is and whether they would be better served having a day home resting with medication administered every 4 hours like clockwork.
At the beginning of the school year the nurse at my son’s school sent home guidelines about when you should keep your child home from school. I posted it on the refrigerator and have referred to it often since. I wish I had this list all along because then the decision making would have been a lot easier. I feel compelled to share this great advice here.
If the thermometer reads over 100 degrees Fahrenheit, you must keep your kid home from school. The schools my children attend ask that kids befeverfree for at least 24 hours without the use of fever reducing medication before returning to school. Next if your kid has nausea or is vomiting then they should stay home. If they are suffering from a sore throat accompanied by fever, they should also stay home. Finally if your child has had 3 or more episodes of diarrhea in the last 24 hours, or any symptoms that would prevent them from participating in class like excessive tiredness, loss of appetite, severe headaches, body aches, earache, or sore throat you can plan on playing nurse maid at home. If your kid had strep throat or pink eye, they have to be on antibiotics for at least 24 hours before returning to school.
Thanks to this thoughtful school nurse’s guidelines, I have no problem figuring out whether my children are well enough to send to school or sick enough to stay home. All I can hope is that the time at home helped steer my daughter towards the road to recovery and she feels better tomorrow. I am the mommy who would have given anything to have a parenting owner's manual with each baby when they were born. It would have made life a lot easier and calmed my worries over the years. The guidelines take the guesswork out and help me to feel even more confident in my ability tomake the decision that is best until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.