Ma pauvre fille!

"My poor daughter," en français. It was a line from a skit that Karen Friedner and I did in seventh grade French class. She was supposed to be a mother, I was her daughter, we were at the doctor and I had a temp. of 40º. I was REALLY sick. Quoth Karen, "Ma pauvre fille!"

Phill had a temp. of 40º, which is 104º to most of you. By the time I got to his place this afternoon, he was asleep on his bed without any covers, and sweating like mad, the poor thing. Shortly after, he woke up on his own and Susan made him take his temperature. 103.5. Augh. I had to run to the store to get some Tylenol for him.

He took a cold shower and moved out into the living room, and sat underneath the air conditioner. His condition started to improve. He was talking and smiling and drinking LOOOTS of his water. He took his temperature again at about five and his fever started to break; it was just below 102. He ate a bit of his dinner, and was really starting to feel better, despite his fever and chills.

I like to think I helped cheer him up.

And he's not contagious anymore, which is good, cuz I REALLY don't wanna be sick in the summer. My poor baby. But things are looking up. He was feeling a lot better when I left than when I found him, so yay. ^_^