Fi had a rough night, to say the least. She had back pain, lethargy, fevers and vomiting. Thinking back, she complained of back pain two days prior. I had to do a quick literature search to find out how common vomiting was. Not common but has been reported, was the conclusion.
I realised I was far more worried about her than I had ever been, myself. I slept three hours, fearful she could aspirate and even began to cycle through advanced life support (ALS) algorithms, if it came to it then every few minutes assessing for signs of life.
I came up with a possible idea for my next book, once Night Shift is completed; about a virus that feeds on guilt and people deteriorate when they feel the guilt of passing it on. This leads to a post apocalyptic world of remorseless people…
Eventually the taste test began. Perhaps the tiniest hint of milk in cereal, the essence of mango in the leftover smoothie but tea was too big an ask.
My colleagues at work were checking in on me. I felt physically fine and ready for frontline activity though emotionally broken.
Fi spent most of the day on the sofa with no appetite. No more vomiting today but ongoing fevers as high as 39.6C. Our friend Jess very kindly dropped off some homemade cookies on the doorstep with full adherence to social distancing (I’d like to add).
I lived the guilt that my friend Amanda must have felt when she passed the virus onto her family. Later that evening, my consultant at work suggested I take a few days off to fully recuperate and look after Fi, something I was grateful for but only added to the guilt I was hoarding.
Fi had an early night and burnt up again. She took her second dose of paracetamol just before bedtime. No further vomiting today, which was at least some positive.
Every day I was learning more about this virus, how differently it could affect us. Fi and I had given this virus a lift but were taking different routes to the same destination, some place called Immunity-on-C. I had somehow taken the motorway but Fi had gone down the pre-lockdown roads laced with roadworks and temporary lights. I just hoped she wouldn’t give up on the journey.
Every few days... 