PRESENT TENSE
Chapter Sixty-One
Thursday, December 18, 2003
Rose sat up in bed, pushing the covers off. It
was the third time she had awakened during the night, her restlessness brought
on by a very sore throat. It hadn’t been so bad the evening before, but now it
was so sore that it hurt to swallow.
Shivering, she pulled the blankets back up
over herself, then immediately tossed them off again, feeling overheated.
Irritably, she glared at Jack, who was sleeping peacefully beside her. It
didn’t seem right that he was so peaceful while she was so miserable!
Scowling, she lay back against her pillow,
pulling the blankets back up, then removing them one by one, trying to find a
comfortable amount of covers. Tugging at them, she finally succeeded in finding
some comfort, only to have a sleepy Jack reach over and take back the covers
she had pulled off of him. Annoyed, she yanked them off of him again, waking
him up.
He sat up, pulling the blankets back over
himself. "Rose, what are you doing?"
"I’m trying to get comfortable, and you
keep taking the stupid blankets!" Her voice was hoarse.
"Me? You’re the one who pulled them off
of me."
"I was trying to get comfortable."
"You said that. Rose, it’s two AM. Why
don’t you just go back to sleep?"
"I can’t. My throat hurts."
"Then go put some of that spray on it.
We have to get up in a few hours."
"Thanks for the sympathy." Rose’s
voice was sarcastic.
"Look, Rose. I’m sorry your throat
hurts. Go put some of that pain-killing spray on it and go to sleep before you
wake up the whole household."
Rose glowered at him as he turned over and
pulled the blankets up to his chin, falling back asleep almost immediately.
Finally, she sighed, climbing out of bed and grabbing the flashlight from the
top of the bookcase.
Slipping into the bathroom, Rose looked at
herself in the mirror, appalled at what she saw. No wonder she felt miserable!
Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes sparkled from fever. A hand to her jaw
revealed that her glands were swollen. Switching on the flashlight, Rose peered
at her throat in the mirror to see if it was inflamed, as her mother had done
for her when she was a little girl and had a sore throat.
The inside of her throat was red and painful.
Tiredly, she switched off the flashlight and dug through the medicine cabinet
for the thermometer. Sticking it under her tongue, she waited a minute until it
beeped, then looked to see what her temperature was.
It was a hundred and three degrees, the
reason why the air felt extraordinarily cold and the space under the blankets
extraordinarily warm. Washing off the thermometer, Rose put it back in the
medicine cabinet and searched for the aspirin and the pain-killing spray for
her throat, wishing that she could remember where she’d put them.
When she had finally found them and medicated
herself to the point that she felt marginally better, she left the bathroom and
crawled back into bed beside Jack, pulling up about half the covers before she
lay down. Jack stirred for a moment, then went back to sleep as Rose lay down,
piling the unwanted blankets over him.
*****
"How are you feeling this morning?"
Jack asked Rose as they dressed for work.
Rose shrugged. "Tired, but I put some of
that spray on my throat, so it feels a little better." She buttoned up her
blouse, then looked at him. "Sorry I was such a grouch last night."
"It’s okay. You didn’t feel well. Your
voice is still hoarse."
"My throat is really red, too."
"How do you know?"
"I took a flashlight and looked in the
mirror."
"Let me see."
"Jack...I really don’t think you want to
see the inside of my throat. It’s pretty disgusting."
"Sure I do." He grabbed the flashlight
from where she had left it on the dresser. "Open up."
Rose gave him a tolerant look and opened her
mouth, letting him look down her throat. "Satisfied, Dr. Dawson?"
"That’s gross."
"I told you so."
"Maybe you should stay home from work
until you feel better."
"I’ll be fine. It’s just a sore
throat."
"You’re feverish, too."
"I took some aspirin when I got up this
morning. It’ll go down soon."
"Do you really want to spread whatever
it is around at work?"
"I think I picked it up at work. A lot
of clients and their kids have been like this."
"All the more reason to stay home, so
you don’t spread it farther."
Rose put a hand on his arm. "Jack, I’ll
be fine. Really. Besides, they need me there. It’s raining, and some of the
clients get really strange when it’s raining, so they have more to handle. They
need all the help they can get."
"See if someone else can answer the
phone for you. You sound like you’re going to lose your voice."
Rose sighed and shook her head. "All
right. If I really start feeling miserable, I’ll go home. I promise."
"Good." He moved toward her, then
changed his mind. "I’m not going to kiss you. I don’t want to catch
whatever it is you have."
"It’s okay if you take it. I don’t want
it."
"Neither do I. Take it easy, okay? Drink
lots of water and eat an orange at lunch. That was what my mother always told
me," he elaborated at her questioning look.
"Yes, doctor," Rose teased him,
giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Come on. We’d better finish getting ready
for work."
*****
Rose worked for about half the day. Despite
repeatedly spraying her throat, taking aspirin, and drinking plenty of water as
Jack had advised, her throat continued to hurt and she remained feverish. By
noon, she could barely speak out loud, and got one of the other office assistants
to take her place at the front desk while she went to see her supervisor.
"Maggie?" Rose whispered, trying to
speak aloud but finding that she couldn’t. Maggie gestured to her to come
inside her office.
Rose came close so that she could be heard.
"I think I’ve caught something. I’ve got laryngitis."
"So I hear. Maybe you should go home for
the rest for the day."
"I’m okay. Maybe you could just have me
work in the chart room the rest of the day?"
"I think you need to go home. Better
yet, I think you need to stop and see your doctor before you go home. There’s
strep throat going around. A number of the clients, and even more of the
clients’ kids, have had it. If you have strep throat, you need to get it
treated, or it could turn into scarlet fever."
"What’s scarlet fever?"
"It’s a complication of strep, which can
sometimes damage your joints and heart valves."
"I can go to urgent care after work.
That stays open late."
"Rose, go home. Go to the doctor first. I
know you’re not faking it. You’re much too reliable for that. Besides, you look
sick and you sound like it. Go home before you get any worse and before you
spread it around."
Rose tried to look reluctant, but was glad to
leave. She really didn’t feel well.
"Okay, Maggie. I’ll call if I can’t come
in tomorrow."
"Come back when you’re feeling better.
Just let me know each day that you won’t be in."
"Sure." Rose’s voice was hardly a
whisper. "Thanks, Maggie."
*****
Rose drove to Southland as soon as she left
work. Since she was unable to get an appointment with her regular doctor on
such short notice, she went to urgent care instead, grateful that she now had
health insurance through her job.
It was a forty-five minute wait. Not only was
strep throat making the rounds, but so was the flu, as happened every winter.
Rose sipped water and watched the rain pour outside the window while she
waited.
At 1:30, she was finally able to see a
doctor. After a cursory examination and a rapid-strep test, the doctor confirmed
that she was indeed down with strep throat, gave her a prescription for
amoxicillin, and told her to stay home from work for at least another day.
It was another twenty-minute wait in the
pharmacy for her prescription, and by the time she able to leave and head for
home, Rose was feeling exhausted and miserable. Fortunately, the Thursday
afternoon traffic was sparse and it was a quick drive home.
As soon as she reached home, she crawled into
bed and fell asleep.
*****
"Rose, wake up."
Rose opened her eyes blearily, looking to see
who was disturbing her rest. "Jack, you’re home. What time is it?"
she croaked, her voice still not working.
"It’s about 5:45. When did you get
home?"
Rose tried to remember. "About 3:30, I
think. My boss told me to leave at noon, and then I went to the doctor and had
to wait a long time."
"What’s wrong?"
"Strep throat, the same thing as all
those clients and their kids have had. I got some antibiotics, so I should be
better soon." She sat up, yawning, and pushed the blankets off. "I
need to make dinner."
"Uh...why don’t you get some more rest?
I’ll make dinner for you."
"It’s my turn."
"You’re tired. Go back to sleep. I’ll
bring you some dinner. It may be a couple of hours, though."
"Why? Do you have something special to
cook?"
"Sort of. It’ll make you feel
better."
"Uh-huh. Thanks, Jack. Before you do
that, could you bring me some water?"
"Sure." He brought her a glass of
water. Gratefully, Rose drank it down, taking an antibiotic capsule and two
aspirin with it.
"How do you feel?" he asked her,
refilling the glass with water and setting it on the bookcase beside her.
"Lousy. I shouldn’t have gone to work.
The doctor told me not to go to work tomorrow, either."
"Good advice. Who’s your doctor?"
"I don’t know who my doctor today was.
She had such a heavy accent that I could barely understand her. I had to go to urgent
care, because my doctor had no appointments available. Everyone’s getting sick.
It’s flu season," she mumbled, her face half-buried in her pillow.
"And strep season," Jack told her,
kissing her on the cheek. "You rest. I’ll take care of dinner."
*****
Two hours later, Jack came back into the
room, carrying a tray. Rose sat up, rubbing her eyes.
"What did you cook?" she wanted to
know, her nose twitching at the scent of food.
"Chicken soup, fresh-baked bread, and
some hot tea for you."
"Is that why it took so long to make
dinner?"
"It didn’t take as long as I’d thought.
You already had a chicken defrosted on the counter."
"This is homemade? Not the canned
stuff?"
"I made it myself. That canned soup is
awful."
"What about the bread?" It
obviously wasn’t store-bought.
"I made that, too."
"Where did you learn to cook like
this?" Rose took a sip of tea. He had added honey and lemon to it, so it
soothed her sore throat.
"Whenever anyone was sick when I was a
kid, Mom would make this soup. One day, when she had a bad cold, she taught me
to make it myself. The bread is something that Dad liked to make. He would bake
it in a Dutch oven. Mom once said that her mother was proud of her for choosing
a husband who could cook."
Rose laughed, then clutched at her sore
throat in misery. Jack set the tray in her lap as she took another sip of tea.
"You’re so nice," she croaked,
putting a spoonful of soup in her mouth.
"I know."
She glared at him. "You’re not supposed
to agree with me."
"I don’t see why not. I made dinner,
didn’t I?"
Rose just grumbled to herself for a moment
before complimenting him on the food. "This is good. You’ll have to teach
those recipes to me when I’m better."
"Sure. Do you need some more
water?"
"Yes. Could you put some ice in it? Ice
helps my throat."
"It helps your fever, too."
"Yeah. I just don’t feel well."
"You’ll feel better soon. Just eat your
dinner and relax. Do you want me to turn on the television?"
"Sure. Thank you, Jack."
"I’ll come and get your tray in a bit,
okay?"
"Okay." Rose slurped some of the
hot broth. "Then I think I’ll go back to sleep."
She leaned forward, her hair hanging in her
face. Jack brought a rubber band and pulled her hair back for her.
"Thanks, Jack. I love you." She
waved him off. "Go eat dinner. I don’t want you catching this."
"I love you, too, Rose. I hope you feel
better soon."
"Me, too."