It is frustrating, and the not knowing is a killer.
I know they’re doing all the tests for all the serious stuff, and the fact that he’s STILL testing negative is all good.
Having a name for it would be nice, but I’m damn sure the verdict after everything will be ‘its a virus’.
The What-If-Crap-Panic butterfly breaks out occasionally and flits around the brain screaming silently raising hairs on the back of my neck. But I am usually able to swat it – or C and I take turns in swatting each others. The 2a.m. ones are the worst – you know how rational you are lying in the dark exhausted and unable to sleep.
And of course I’m drained too – feel like I’ve been nursing my family all year. They’ve been rotating since Christmas, pretty much, far more than my fair share. C’s finally today been given the all clear on his own lump/cancer scare (man-boob lump) which whilst fairly sure it wasn’t has remained a nagging flutter for the What-If-Crap-Panic butterfly when it got bored with shrieking about Noi.1. Plus the other three are doing the usual pick-a-bug-and-pass-it-on routine, which is always fun.
No.1 is wafting between being well and fidgety-cos-he’s-bored, and limp and martyr-ish when he droops. He wavers between those two extremes during the day – starts on a low, perks mid morning then it’s down hill from lunchtime onwards.
But hey – its my birthday on Monday. I shall have a whole day of doing nothing but being waited on.
I think we just all need a holiday (bloody sick kids).
Don’t mind me – I’m just hot. And hungry. And want to know whats hidden in the boot of C’s car…