Trials of a father

It’s never an easy thing for a father to see his child sick. It’s compounded by the need to be emotionally grounded during the sickness, because rational minds make rational decisions, and emotional ones, make poor decisions. Quite a hard thing to handle, the need to be both at the same time. To be the father that cares and loves, and also the father who has to make the decisions in dealing with the illness. It’s probably why doctors aren’t allowed to treat as patients their own family members.

Mia is sick, has been for 4 days now. A fever that comes and goes, spikes and dips. She doesn’t seem to have anything terrible, thank god. The lack of a rash tends to rule out the most obvious danger of dengue. Her appetite is good, but she’s lethargic and cranky. I suppose i would be too if i was pumped full of medicine and felt like crap all day. 

Two different doctors have advised against the need to send her to hospital; they say, take the medicine and wait it out. Of course, they are the experts and i am not, so it makes sense to listen to them. A visit to the hospital, where she’ll probably get stuck with needles and be in an unfamiliar place is a traumatic thing for a baby barely 1 year old. I’m trying to spare her that. 

I’ll wait it out a day or two more, as the doctors advised. 

Get better soon, little one.

The Unwell Daughter