E came home from school yesterday coughing and irritable. After shrugging off her coat, and burrowing beneath a blanket on the sofa, she wanted nothing more than a cup of tea. Sure enough, she'd spiked a fever. But only a slight one.
Figures, I thought. We're so close. Only days out from her aneurysm surgery. And now this.
While nursing my own steaming mug of tea, I considered the situation. Maybe E's day had been particularly trying. Her energy reserves are pretty low, and she tires easily. Or maybe the bus ride had worn her out. The ride home had taken extra long. And she'd come home wearing her hoodie and winter coat.
Then again, maybe she was truly coming down with something. Maybe surgery would be canceled. I lowered my tea, deciding it'd steeped too long.
The phone rang. Caller id came up unavailable. I picked up anyway. It was the surgeon's office calling with the results of the morning's lab tests.
"Good news," the nurse said. "The new labs look good. I'll page Dr. and let her know."
The labs looked good? Based on questionable labs obtained a week ago, we'd retaken them that morning, hoping for better numbers. So this was good news, right? Yet, on the sofa, E was sipping her tea and coughing.
"That's good to hear," I said to the nurse, "but you should know that E came home a bit wilty today."
"Oh, no. I hope we can do this now," she said. "We're entering cold and flu season."
"I know," I say, remembering E's non-stop illnesses last Winter. "I want this over with. We've waited too long already."
"Call us Monday."
E woke up fine this morning. No fever. No longer wilted. Thanksgiving's a go. Will be SO glad when I can exit this rollercoaster ride.