7000 Days

Gus woke up at 2am last night with 103 degree temperature. It’s funny because I had just been talking with people at dinner about how cancer can sometimes be killed off by a temperature of 104 – 107 but that there was an issue of brain damage at those levels. So you can imagine the scene here at the orchard with both new parents of only child running around with our arms above our heads, leaving on all the lights and driving way too fast on the freeway.

Only to arrive to a very calm and slow check-in desk (even though there were no other patients to be seen). They were apparently not so worried about 103. And, of course, by the time we got back to the room and took the official temp, it had fallen to 101. Whew. I’m sure you can imagine the thoughts that were racing through my head on the way there. He was so hot and miserable and then, worse, quiet.

And by the time we were ready to go, he was ready for a nice stroll around the place (note the clock on the wall)

He’s feeling much better today but still pretty clingy. Just wants to hug all the time. Damn. Don’t you just hate that?