And That's What You Get For Claiming Progress

104. That was Palmer's temperature at 11 a.m. on Friday.  Panic is what I experienced.  His fever had started Thursday night at 9 p.m.  I calmly called the pediatrician's office and informed the triage nurse of his condition and that we had an appointment to be seen at 2 p.m. that afternoon.  I felt this was urgent.  102 - 103 was nerve wracking enough.  104 brought my anxiety to a whole new level.  She instructed me to put him in a warm bath wrapped in a warm towel to slowly and safely bring down his fever. Then follow up his Motrin dose in 3 hours with Tylenol.  Maybe she'd misunderstood.  We have an 11 month old baby with a 104 degree fever.  In what universe does he show interest in sitting in a bath with a wet towel wrapped around him?  At 98.6 degrees he is not going to willing allow me to drape a wet towel around his body.  Five minutes later I was fully clothed soaking wet sitting in a tub with him screaming bloody murder.  It went swimmingly.  His fever went down into the 102's within an hour and stayed there the rest of the afternoon.  The pediatrician said what I knew was coming.  Virus.  Virus = Wait it Out.  The standard apologetic head shake from the physician and an encouraging "hypothetical" pat on the butt on your way out the door.  In case you were wondering, the doctors urge you not to panic until 105.  My naive first time mom brain thinks 104 is awfully close to 105.  Silly me.  So after 3 straight days of 2+ hour naps and our new schedule seemingly on lock down, we spent the next couple nights up like we had a newborn.  The poor little guy has spent so much time sick the past month.  His fever finally broke yesterday and his spirits have been slowly climbing.  We are thankful to all the prayers from friends and family.  Keep them coming!

We took him out for some fresh air on the course last night.  A cart ride will always bring a smile to his face.  Monday starts a new week and a fresh attempt on getting him back to his routine.  This will be the last time I EVER tempt fate and declare success, or any shade of it, regarding Palmer's sleep.

Always chasing a ball with his clubs