...you give me fever...

Robb almost never gets sick, and when he does he does it in a bag way. I'm not talking about the spinal cord injury, because I don't think of that as a "sickness." Tonight he seems to have a fever. He is shivering and queasy, and is anxious that this is somehow related to the injury. I'm pretty sure that this is the fever talking.

Of course, if we were in a trashy Nineteenth Century novel, I would be worried about excessive worry causing brain fever. Spontaneous brain fever happened a lot in the world of Sherlock Holmes and Wilkie Collins. Thankfully, that sort of thing went out with gas lighting and hansom cabs.

I hope that he'll be able to sleep this one off.

Comments

Anonymous said…
well, tell him if he cant get any sleep....there's always the leaches.... ;-D that'll put him right out!

Hope you're both sleeping peacefully right now!
Anonymous said…
...and don't forget LOTS OF FLUIDS...and good wishes heading your way!

Bandaid
Anonymous said…
Ah, the flu, what a wonderful way to spend your time.

Have him rest up, and read trashy novels. Using leaches is an unusual idea, it might also be necessary to use the can opener and see if the space alien implant in his head is acting up. I hate when that happens to me. I had a nasty flu hit me a few weeks ago and it hit harder then I expected, it might be the same one thats got him now. I had projectile of-the-everything, and it truely sucked for a week.

The flu might affect him differently now that his body is in a long term healing period, I hope he takes his time and recovers slowly as well from this, don't be impatient for him to return to his therapy.

P.S. We got a psychotically energetic kitten, and it's ready to leap on and bite Robb's twitchin' butt. I don't know if biting Robb's butt would make him feel any better, but go ahead and try !

Annalisa
Anonymous said…
while he recovers, maybe he can make a box to put in that cool aspirin tin...where do you get aspirin in a tin like that?

night writer
knitica said…
I think it's more likely to be consumption. Don't worry, no one's ever died of it.

Either that or the hereditary syphillus in Ibsen's "Ghosts."
Kath said…
If I wasn't in LA right now I'd offer to bring by some mock chicken soup and a little mock cod liver oil...
K
Team Tysonosaurus.

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