I’m not supposed to be here at all. I was going on a trip with a friend to an island, take photos and have some girl fun. But Sam fell sick and, well… the island can wait.
Sam is, well, you have to understand — she’s Supergirl. When she was about five, she caught dengue, we didn’t know it was dengue because back then it took five days before a blood test could yield definite results, and by the time we were sure it was dengue, she was already running around at the hospital lobby playing with Alex.
She’s a strong girl. Always has been. So when she slept for over 24 hours, ate nothing and drank nothing — even after I cooked all the dishes that she had been requesting — I knew there was something seriously wrong.
It started on Sunday. We picked her up from the condo, we passed by Mercato Centrale and bought lunch, went to the supermarket at Sam’s request because, according to her, they were running out of everything at the condo. She was already complaining how her throat hurt. When we got home at around 2.30 in the afternoon, she went to her room and did not come out until the afternoon of the following day. And when she did, she just moved to the family room, turned on the TV and the aircon then wrapped herself in a comforter and slept. I tiptoed in, felt her face and realized she had a high fever. But Sam is Sam, I thought — hoped, maybe — that she’d just sleep it off.
By dinnertime yesterday, however, we started to get really worried. Speedy and I agreed that if Sam still refused food and water, we would have to bring her to the hospital and have her on IV drip so she wouldn’t get dehydrated. I roused Sam to offer her food and water, and told her about getting dehydrated and the IV drip. An hour later, she drank half a glass of water and she said she wanted McDo fries (soggy fries, no less) and spaghetti (overcooked noodles and thin sauce, and all) because her throat hurt and she didn’t want anything hard to swallow. Speedy went out to buy her McDo junk (the darn branch nearest us wouldn’t deliver after 8.00 p.m.), we brought the food into the family room and waited. Sam didn’t finish everything — I caught her sticking fries into the spaghetti and she said everything tasted like kalawang — but, at least, she ate. And drank enough water to stop me from panicking some more. I guess she realized that trying to eat and drink despite her very swollen tonsils was less painful than the IV drip.
By 10.00 o’clock last night, she was chatting a bit (she was sassing me already so I knew she was feeling better) and insisting she’d have to go to school today, Tuesday. I said no. The fever had gone down some but she was not fully recovered. I might have allowed her to go to school if she were coming home by the end of the day but since she would be back at the condo, I insisted on the safer option — stay home for another day. She’s 18, you’d think I should be over that kind of reaction by now but the anxiety is just the same as when she was a baby.
So, she’s still here at home. Sleeping on and off. Eating a little. But it looks like a little more rest and she’ll be fine.