My 7-year-old daughter had swine flu and it was hell.
It lasted two weeks. She had a sore throat and a high fever. She had a chesty, hacking cough that would lead to getting sick (not that she had much to throw up, she wasn't eating). She was tired and listless. At one point she recoiled when I touched her. She just wanted to be in bed, alone, with the lights off. She had a respite after a week, but then it came back with a vengeance; more coughing, more getting sick, more high fever. My main goal was to keep her temperature down and to make sure she took liquids.
To all mums,
If your child threw up last night’s dinner or had the loo permanently stuck to their bottom last night, PLEASE DO NOT SEND HIM TO SCHOOL.
I don’t care if you asked him if he wanted to stay home and he said no. I would want to get out of the house too if I was faced with the choice of helping a grumpy mummy with the growing mountain of laundry the size of Everest or playing with my friends.
The thing is, when you send your sick child to school, they spread their germs. They don’t do it intentionally – they cough or sneeze and the virus suspends itself in mid air, non discriminate on where, or on whom, it lands.
Then other children get the sick bug, and they in turn get their siblings sick, and their parents. Soon the whole town is sick is and throwing up in unison and there is a run on paracetamol at Tesco .
Oh no. A sign on the door.
I dreaded these notices more than staying at Scottish grandma's in the winter, where once it was so cold I could actually see my breath escape from my mouth. Scottish grandma has a miniature wooden Swiss chalet on her fireplace mantle, a memento we had brought back from a skiing holiday, and it kindly reminded me of the temperature. Forty-two friggin' degrees. Fahrenheit. Inside the house.
We have had several cases of headlice recently – please check your child’s hair diligently.
