Well, you had a snuffle on the weekend, and so did I.Â So we laid a little low.Â But to no avail.Â Full blown flu has hit.Â I thought you were worse than me – snuffling and coughing and having difficulty breastfeeding.Â But today it’s me that is worse.Â Think all out on the floor unable to do much except get a glass of water then lie down again.Â And feel like death warmed up.Â Â You are relatively cheeful for someone who is obviously sick too – despite coughing and hacking and nasal-breathing difficulties, you still seem to want to play in between longer-than-normal sleeps.Â Which is tough for me as all I want to do is lie down and stare at the ceiling.Â So.Â We’ve reached a middle ground.Â You’re on the bed with me, playing rolley-polley while I lie there staring dejectedly looking at the ceiling, alternatively moving you back to the middle when you’re in danger of rolling off the bed again or giving you a muslin wrap to play with (you are endlessly fascinated by the variety of ways in which you can eat, wrap yourself in, cover you face etc by such a cloth).
You are supposed to be having your six month vaccinations today.Â I think they won’t give them to you as you have a cold.Â But we’ll go to the doctor – to check you, and hopefully get me some medication.
Ark. Erk. Yuck.
ps. your Aunt is severely afflicted too. In fact, I think she is worse.Â Your dad however is at work and seems to have escaped so far.
P.p.s. And yes, thisÂ is the first time you’ve been sick.Â And I was really worried about you and feeling bad on the weekend.Â But I took your temperature a lot, and you aren’t feverish.Â So I figured just a bit of mucous and discomfort.Â But still felt heartwrenchingly bad for you.Â Now that I’m feeling like death, I do feel bad for you too, but in a more detached way.Â Like, as long as you are ‘ok’, then you’ll get through it and be ok.Â I just don’t have the energy to feel bad for you anymore.Â Sorry.