stopped. I'm giving him light foods. That chicken soup sounds excellent. What did you put in it?"
"Tomatoes, celery, potatoes, onion and baby spinach leaves. Fished the spinach out before serving. It was so good, mum!"
"Think I'll make that for us for tomorrow. I just wanted to check on you lot. Stay healthy and bring my grandbaby back to health!"
"We will. You stay healthy, mum!"
"Love you, darling. Bye!"
Marcus and I wake up in the middle of the night, feeling like death. I lurch out of bed and stumble to the loo, where I am sick. As I go back to bed, Marcus gets up, runs to the loo and he loses his dinner.
We look at each other in bed.
"Oh, my God, this is bad," I say with a sigh. "How do you feel?"
"A train ran over me. I hurt. My stomach is a war zone. You?'
"The same. My head wants to explode!"
We take another dose of antiviral medication and try to sleep.
I'm bothered by pesky fever dreams that feature giant Cara faces and Melanie faces. The noises in my dreams echo and everything looks as though I took a psychedelic drug. I keep waking up, making my sleep ineffectual and not very healing.
Marcus tosses and turns, muttering to himself. His skin is burning up.
I wake suddenly, thinking I hear Lizzie crying. Turning the baby monitor toward me, I realize she is crying, so I get up and shuffle to her bedroom. I find her standing in her crib, tear-stained and cranky.
"Mummy! Bad!" She brushes at her head, trying to bat away...pain?
"I know, luv. We're all feeling bad," I croak. "Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. You're coming to sleep with daddy and me. We all have the same thing." Grabbing her favorite lovey, I trudge back to our bedroom. I collapse back onto the mattress and tuck Lizzie in between Marcus and me. Eventually, I fall back to sleep, but, as before, my sleep is interrupted by weird fever dreams. Marcus starts when he realizes Lizzie's in bed with us.
"She okay?"
"She got up crying and she's cranky. Says she has a headache. I gave her some acetaminophen for that and the fever."
"How'd she tell you?"
"She batted at her head. Go to sleep, if you can. The more sleep we get, the better."
"Yeah. good luck with that!"
Slowly, the three of us drift off, feeling our various aches, pains and upsets from the flu. Marcus gets up one more time to be sick. While my stomach is still very upset, I manage to keep it from misbehaving again. Instead, I roll over and gently cuddle Lizzie, who occasionally whimpers in her sleep.
The next morning, the three of us are still feeling ill, though the antiviral medication seems to be taking hold. Lizzie is a bit more lively and she munches on a saltine cracker at breakfast. Marcus and I limit our food intake to hot tea and flat soda. We all sleep the day away - by the end of that day, Lizzie is acting like she feels better, which doesn't go along with our need for sleep. Still, we manage to stay awake and watch over her as she runs around the living room. At one point, she comes perilously close to the Christmas tree, and I have to warn her away.
She looks at me with her lower lip sticking out and tears pooling her her big, green eyes.
"Mummy? Mummy mad?"
"Darling, mummy's feeling ill. Come here and let's cuddle. It's nearly time for your medicine, anyway." I look at my watch and get up. In the kitchen, I give the medicine to Lizzie, who shakes her head at the bitter taste.
"Yuck. Bad."
"No, it doesn't taste very pleasant, but you're feeling better, aren't you, luv?"
"Feel better?" She is suddenly overtaken by a huge yawn, so I take her upstairs. Running my fingers through her hair, I tuck her into her crib.
"Night, night, my little girl. You get some more sleep and I'll bet you, in the morning, we'll all be feeling better," I say, hoping it will be so.
Downstairs, Marcus looks at the clock.
"It's not even eight, but my eyes won't stay open. Let's take our medication and try to drink some broth," he suggests.
"Sounds good." We drink some broth and I
"Tomatoes, celery, potatoes, onion and baby spinach leaves. Fished the spinach out before serving. It was so good, mum!"
"Think I'll make that for us for tomorrow. I just wanted to check on you lot. Stay healthy and bring my grandbaby back to health!"
"We will. You stay healthy, mum!"
"Love you, darling. Bye!"
Marcus and I wake up in the middle of the night, feeling like death. I lurch out of bed and stumble to the loo, where I am sick. As I go back to bed, Marcus gets up, runs to the loo and he loses his dinner.
We look at each other in bed.
"Oh, my God, this is bad," I say with a sigh. "How do you feel?"
"A train ran over me. I hurt. My stomach is a war zone. You?'
"The same. My head wants to explode!"
We take another dose of antiviral medication and try to sleep.
I'm bothered by pesky fever dreams that feature giant Cara faces and Melanie faces. The noises in my dreams echo and everything looks as though I took a psychedelic drug. I keep waking up, making my sleep ineffectual and not very healing.
Marcus tosses and turns, muttering to himself. His skin is burning up.
I wake suddenly, thinking I hear Lizzie crying. Turning the baby monitor toward me, I realize she is crying, so I get up and shuffle to her bedroom. I find her standing in her crib, tear-stained and cranky.
"Mummy! Bad!" She brushes at her head, trying to bat away...pain?
"I know, luv. We're all feeling bad," I croak. "Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. You're coming to sleep with daddy and me. We all have the same thing." Grabbing her favorite lovey, I trudge back to our bedroom. I collapse back onto the mattress and tuck Lizzie in between Marcus and me. Eventually, I fall back to sleep, but, as before, my sleep is interrupted by weird fever dreams. Marcus starts when he realizes Lizzie's in bed with us.
"She okay?"
"She got up crying and she's cranky. Says she has a headache. I gave her some acetaminophen for that and the fever."
"How'd she tell you?"
"She batted at her head. Go to sleep, if you can. The more sleep we get, the better."
"Yeah. good luck with that!"
Slowly, the three of us drift off, feeling our various aches, pains and upsets from the flu. Marcus gets up one more time to be sick. While my stomach is still very upset, I manage to keep it from misbehaving again. Instead, I roll over and gently cuddle Lizzie, who occasionally whimpers in her sleep.
The next morning, the three of us are still feeling ill, though the antiviral medication seems to be taking hold. Lizzie is a bit more lively and she munches on a saltine cracker at breakfast. Marcus and I limit our food intake to hot tea and flat soda. We all sleep the day away - by the end of that day, Lizzie is acting like she feels better, which doesn't go along with our need for sleep. Still, we manage to stay awake and watch over her as she runs around the living room. At one point, she comes perilously close to the Christmas tree, and I have to warn her away.
She looks at me with her lower lip sticking out and tears pooling her her big, green eyes.
"Mummy? Mummy mad?"
"Darling, mummy's feeling ill. Come here and let's cuddle. It's nearly time for your medicine, anyway." I look at my watch and get up. In the kitchen, I give the medicine to Lizzie, who shakes her head at the bitter taste.
"Yuck. Bad."
"No, it doesn't taste very pleasant, but you're feeling better, aren't you, luv?"
"Feel better?" She is suddenly overtaken by a huge yawn, so I take her upstairs. Running my fingers through her hair, I tuck her into her crib.
"Night, night, my little girl. You get some more sleep and I'll bet you, in the morning, we'll all be feeling better," I say, hoping it will be so.
Downstairs, Marcus looks at the clock.
"It's not even eight, but my eyes won't stay open. Let's take our medication and try to drink some broth," he suggests.
"Sounds good." We drink some broth and I
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