As you may recall, I detest illnesses. When someone is sick I stay as far away from them as possible, and when I fall ill I drug up as much as I can so as not to feel the awfulness that is a viral infection. So come flu season, I am one Walgreens trip away from darning rubber gloves 24 hours a day. Typically in College Station, flu season hits its peak in January when everyone returns from the break and dies off at the end of February.
We almost made it.
Starting sometime around Thursday night, Jordan began to complain of a raw, scratchy throat. His roommate had come down with a nasty case of the Flue the day before and after a trip to the ER learned that it wasn't just the flu but an ear and sinus infection as well. So when Jordan brought up that he wasn't feeling so well, my guard went up. I didn't suspect influenza right away because I knew the incubation period is longer than one day, so I didn't heed to Jordan's moans and groans...until this morning. I took one look into his eyes and knew he was not feeling the greatest. I felt his forehead, neck and chest and suspected he was running a low fever and after a quick thermometer read I realized my suspicions were right. 101.3 degrees. He asked me what that meant and I told him truthfully that we were no longer battling a simple cold, but the flu itself.
If it were any other person, I would have ran. I would have grabbed my things and ran out of my own bedroom to safety. But I didn't. The look of helplessness in his eyes was too much to bare.
All day today I sat by his side, woke him up to take his medicine dosages when he needed too, sat with him in a doctor's office for two hours just to leave empty handed, fed him juice, soup, and took his temperature. All by his bedside. I...yes I took care of an ill loved one. I, a person who is deathly afraid of doctors' offices and just the prospect of getting sick, sacrificed the strength of my immunity and cared for my feverish boyfriend.
Because he would of done the same thing for me.
I learned that when it comes to illness, I don't mind it at all when it is someone I care deeply about. Especially when they are the source of my strength. After three and a half years, this is the first time Jordan has fallen severely ill. Sure we've both had our boughts with nasty colds, but I am talking about up-all-night-with-fever-and-chills-can't-get-out-of-bed sick, and it breaks my heart. Seeing him in so much pain makes me feel so bad for him. He's not the same goofy happy person and I miss it. I wish I could make him feel better in an instant...but I can't. I feel that being with him as much as I can helps ease his pain a little (Theraflu seems to getting a majority of the job done) and if that means exposing myself to the wintertime disease, then so be it. Sure, I will most likely come down with it in a couple of days, but a part of me just doesn't care because I know I will have the best bedside partner to take care of me. As for now, I am way more content with making sure Jordan is as comfortable as can be.
We took his temperature before he laid down tonight to go to sleep before he has to wake up to medicate himself some more and my efforts have paid off. His 101.3 fever diminished into 98.6 degree reading. I know this temporary relief is most likely short lived, but I was happy that he was feeling a little better. He even managed to muster out a laugh before I turned off his bedroom light.
So, the days will go on and he will get better in time. I just hope that these next few days go quickly because I hate seeing him feeling so miserable.
I miss my goofy, lovable, healthy Jordan.
Get well soon,
Shirley.
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