I feel like I have been time-traveling. I have just flashed forward over the last three days of my life, one moment slicing chicken and making vinaigrette for a salad, the next waking up this morning and getting ready for Bible study as usual. The three days in between? Lost to high fevers, a little vomiting, a lot of body aches, and a whole lot of.... I'll let you use your imagination, but suffice it to say I am seven pounds thinner than I was Sunday evening.
This is how sick I was: I can't finish the book I was reading during the few moments I wasn't writhing in agony or passed out unconscious on the bed. It make me nauseated just to look at it.
Molly and Frankie both had fevers Sunday night but Molly has rebounded to her free-wheeling, marker-seeking self, although she did spend most of the morning at BSF lying slumped in a corner weeping while the teachers tried to wheedle her out, while Frankie continues to spike a fever as soon as the Tylenol wears off. Thankfully, she has been spared the digestive symptoms (a true answer to prayer as she has very few extra pounds to spare), but traded them for a sore throat and a barking cough. She is so pathetic when her medicine wears off. She starts to get more and more sluggish and more and more snuggly. Frankie is never more lovable than while febrile. Suddenly, all my motherhood dreams come true and I get to do nothing but cuddle her and rub her hair and kiss her face. It makes one almost understand Munchausen-by-proxy.