That isn’t really the sound I’m hearing, but I’m imagining it as the background. What I really hear is the whoosh gurgle whoosh of the return pipe running through the tank.
Time has a certain stretchiness when someone close to you is very ill. Like you are now living inside a Salvador Dali painting. Usually this phenomenon occurs in the hospital. Once you’re inside for more than a few hours, all perspective gets warped. An hour can be three days, three days can be an hour.
I’ve discovered this oddity can occur at home, too, if someone is sick enough. I’m sure some of it has to do with the lack of sleep. You’re up late into the night watching, listening, waiting. And then up before the sun to watch, listen, and wait some more. During the day when others are going about their lives, you’re watching your sickie sleep, monitoring breathing and temperature changes. Occasionally some Pink Floyd starts playing in your mental soundtrack, “Ticking away, the moments that make up a dull day…”
Needless to say, the girl is still quite ill. So far we’ve avoided the hospital, but we were back at the doctor’s office yesterday. Actually, we saw a different ped yesterday, ours wasn’t on call. Mama got some clearer guidelines on going to the ER. I’m trying desperately to avoid the ER, can you tell?
Her fever has yet to break. It goes lower, it goes higher, but today is 5 straight days. 😦
The boys and Papa are at the middle guy’s Kendo tournament now. These tournaments are long, can be quite boring, and the stench of adolescent and grown man sweat can be overwhelming, but still, it’s a big day for my boy and I can’t be there. Tomorrow is the performance of the musical he’s been rehearsing for the past 6 months, I must figure out how to get to see it. Obviously, I can’t take the girl, but, but, but.