Friday, 19 June 2009

Poorly boy

Erbie has a fever which I’ve been keeping at bay with damp sponges and a nightly dose of child’s nurofen for 3 days, but it’s day 4, so I take him to the doctor.
The receptionist rings me back and asks if I can bring him it immediately as the doctor has an emergency home visit to attend to, but Erbie’s asleep, it’s his 9am nap time and I’ve just put him back to bed. Oh well, up he gets, very mumsey, I sit him on the Hippychick seat and he rests his head against my chest in a sorry way. The doctor discovers raised lymph glands behind his ears and a slight upper respiratory tract infection, which means his left ear hurts him. He is prescribed Amoxcillin for 5 days. It’s luminious yellow needs to be refridgerated and comes with a baby pink syringe. I hold off for improvement till day 5, but then start the course of antibiotics, reading the warning signs avidly. Look out for clay coloured poo and white blotches under the skin. After one dose, the next morning he has a clay coloured poo, um, well he has only really eaten porridge, rice cakes and bit of banana, that’s all pretty clay coloured. I give him a second dose, by now he knows it’s horrid and it’s not so easy. I look worriedly at the white blotches on his skin – I am imagining these. I try and feed him anything that isn’t pale coloured and wait in anticipation for the next poo.

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‘They tuck you up your mum and dad...’
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Anais Nin

‘Come on Dover move your bloomin’ arse’.
Eliza Doolittle