Soaring temperatures
Well, it may be pouring and blowing a gale outside, but here in the house the temperature's been rising and rising. Poor Bridget woke up screaming at 6.15 this morning (utterly unlike her), very hot and bothered. We gave her some Mummy milk and some Calpol and eventually got her to go back to sleep on Mummy for about ten minutes. When she woke up again she was bright as a button and ready to eat a large breakfast. So we thought nothing more of it, assuming that it was just a nightmare and that the screaming had made her hot, and packed her off to nursery, and us to work, a little late.
An hour and a half later I was rung by the nursery to say that Bridget had a temperature again and wasn't very happy, having spent two hours lying around rather listlessly. So off I went back to collect her and whisked her up to the doctor. By then she had a temperature of 102, but the doctor checked her ears and throat and listened to her chest and declared that there weren't any serious problems. He sent me home with a bottle of infant ibuprofen, which was more effective on getting the temperature down - once disguised by some strawberry fromage frais.
Bridget's been remarkably happy for the rest of the day. She had a sleep after we got home, ate a large lunch, slumped dopily on Mummy and played a little until we had to go and collect Mike (one car families can be a hassle at times - especially since Mike had to take the car straight back to Exeter for an evening's teaching). Dinner was less desired but Bridget was happy to have her bath, accept another dose of medicine and be put to bed. And she's now sleeping soundly, thank goodness.
Tomorrow Mike gets to stay at home while I go to work, since Bridget has to have been clear of a temperature for 24 hours before she can go back to the nursery, just in case she's infectious.
Oh - and we had an extra excitement in the middle of all this this evening. Bridget let go of the sofa and stood unaided for about two seconds before going bump on her bottom.