I felt so helpless. I could do nothing but watch a hideous virus create havoc in poor Will's body.
I don't think I have ever washed my hands so much. I don't think Will will ever forgive me for taking his temperature so many times.
Dear Tom woke up almost every hour checking on Will. We fought over who should sleep and who would watch Will. I became irrational which makes Tom go into his condescending frustration stage. It was all just so pleasant.
I, of course, couldn't sleep.
I tossed and turned and paced outside Will's room.
At 3 am he heard me and said those magical words. "Mom I'm all sweaty!" Oh joy! The fever was finally down.
At 5:45 am it was back up to 101 degrees. All day I sat in worry. I anticipated an uncontrollable high fever-- a fever with a vengeance. I sit here and write this post wondering what the night might bring.
I am so tired. Will is so strong.
I hope sleep brings Will renewal of health and pleasant, restful dreams.