Yesterday, after daycare, Rio insisted she had a fever and trailed after me holding her hand to her forehead. I was annoyed because she did not feel hot or seem ill in any way. I felt she was probably trying to get attention by pretending she was sick, something she’s done a few times.
Eventually, heard her say this to me over the phone and said, “Maybe Rio is trying to tell you something about how her body feels.”
To which I responded that Rio did not know what a fever feels like, having had only a tiny handful of them in her life and none in the past 10 months or so, but at his encouragement I humored her and took her temperature.
100.5.
D’Oh. Her temp hovered between 99 and 102 for the next 24 hours, most of which she spent sleeping. In the afternoon she began to complain about leg pains and say that she couldn’t stand, so we took her to the doctor. Because it was an urgent care appt, we saw someone Rio had not met. She was smart and kind, but Rio still parsed her as a stranger.
Which led to conversations with the doctor like:
“And then she said she felt a stinging pain in her leg and could not stand on it”
Doctor: “Maybe it was an ache?”
Me: “No. She’s very articulate. She said that her head aches. She’s a great reporter about her health. This was different.”
Doctor: “Um…it could be hard for her to tell the difference between a sting and an ache…”
Me: “Tell the doctor how your legs feel, sweetie.”
Rio: sits there on her dad’s lap looking, you know, two years old and sleepy and not saying a word. Binky binky binky. I’m sure the doctor thought I was a stage mother at best, and quite possibly mad.
(the health outcome was that Rio has strep throat with atypical symptoms; she’s on antibiotics and we’re all under quarantine for the weekend. feh.)
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