Talk about the blind leading the blind; it's pretty much a case of the moderately infirm tending to the needs of the infectiously incapacitated chez nous. Fortunately the payback from Friday's exertions has not proved as severe as its promise (see previous post) so, I'm able to support my beloved who has succumbed to an infectious ailment. Her throat started to be irritatingly bothersome last Wednesday night and then, became a cause of major sleep disruption (for her) on Friday and Saturday nights. [As one frequently plagued with an erratically disruptive sleep pattern, I can normally be found jealously observing ma belle's usual mode of deep sound sleep].
On Sunday morning, feeling much worse, she visited the out-of-hours doctor who diagnosed acute tonsilitis and prescribed phenoxymethylpenicillin 250mg - two to be taken four times a day for seven days. At that time, although feeling totally wretched and wrung out, Helen wasn't running a temperature; this morning, after a further night of minimal restfulness, she was feeling extremely nauseous, running a high temperature and, simultaneously, teeth-chatteringly shivering. Having spoken to her GP, via telephone, the dosage of antibiotics has been reduced to 1 tablet four times a day.
I'm just hoping that I don't fall victim to the same infection as, ma belle already feels guilty at having me running around after her! I’m somewhat overwhelmed by the sense of helplessness I experience when my beloved is unwell; although I’m happy to prepare whatever she’d like to eat or drink, it’s hard to cope with the fact that she can’t manage, nor has any desire, to eat anything at the moment. It’s altogether a quite unusual situation as Helen is normally the one who can be relied on to “eat what is set before you, nothing doubting”. As she has already been sick a couple of times, sans food, I don’t think it would be fair to coerce her into eating just to help put my mind at ease!
I suppose that, in a way, this reversal of roles helps me to further appreciate just how difficult it must be for my OH to cope with my ME related sundry ailments and pattern of remissions and relapses. A carer’s lot is not a happy one.