Hand, Foot and Mouth
It should be called mouth, mouth and mouth.
Moo developed an ulcer on her tongue on day one. It didn’t seem to bother her much, just a little excess saliva. She was her usual self on day two. Her tongue was covered in ulcers, but her hands and feet remained clear. Then day three arrived. Along with it came the high temperature, the lethargy, the whimpering. Days four and five have been a blurry mix of sleep deprivation, refusal to eat and drink, medicine and dry nappies.
It’s been tough going, sleeping on the bedroom floor to comfort a toddler that cries whenever she swallows. She’s point blank refused to put anything in her mouth. I gave up with food on day three, but I’ve tried all methods of getting fluid into her. Cups, bottles, straws, spoons, syringes, jelly, ice lollies. The dry nappies have been concerning, although she has been weeing overnight.
The NHS 111 service was helpful yesterday. We called in a panic at midnight when she vomited, knowing that she was already dehydrated. I’m usually pretty chilled out about illnesses and injuries, I was worried I was being melodramatic. I’ve also had great support from a nurse friend.
Moo has drank a little this evening, and managed a scoop of melted ice cream. I’m feeling much better, although her nappy was still dry when she went to bed. She’s been so cuddly, she’s even been sleeping on me, which hasn’t occurred in months. But I miss the healthy Moo, the one that makes conversation all day and piddles her knickers.
Illness is awful. I’m so thankful that I only have to worry about a fever and all I have to complain about is lack of sleep for a few nights. I’m reminded of those families that care for children with chronic, life threatening and terminal illnesses. How they manage, I will never know. They must be running on pure love. I’m blessed with a healthy daughter, and thinking of those families that need some support tonight.