Firstborn got really sick today. A rocketing temperature that didn't respond to the usual Nurofen/ Calpol dosage, sore throat, bright red cheeks and lips, ghostly white and shivering with goose bumps all over her body (despite a temperature of 40C+).
Alpha took her off to the Medcare hospital as soon as he got home from work to get her checked out, a precaution we thought. Thank God we took her in so quickly. Poor Firstborn ended up in a hospital bed with an antibiotic drip to try and get her temperature down, and a battery of tests to try to find out what was wrong.
When I arrived at the hospital (we left the hotel so fast the Small(er) One was still in her nightgown) Firstborn looked so small and pale in the big hospital bed, hooked up to the drip with her hand all taped up, it felt as if my insides were being wrung out. She was very stoical about it, or maybe just exhausted.
After hours of waiting for the test results, it turned out to be a bacterial infection which had responded well to the antibiotic IV so we were discharged, Firstborn bouncing out of the hospital cracking jokes and giggling, a mere five hours after she was carried in. She's currently tucked up in bed cuddling the splint they put on her hand and wrist to keep it still while the drip was in, which she has adopted as some kind of hero's trophy.
A few things I learned tonight - your child being sick, especially when you don't know what is wrong, is truly frightening. It also puts everything into perspective - the fact that a few hours before I was obsessively stressing out about the lack of school places available mid term in Dubai, chastising the kids for eating with their mouths open and tutting about the fact that they would rather watch a Disney movie than do anything educational or improving, makes me feel a bit foolish.
Anyway, I'm tired and emotional and it's way past my bedtime. Tomorrow will be a better day.