Is he just a bit under the weather? my motherinlaw gasped. Whats his condition?
Hes sleeping. Nothing serious, just a mild fever, she said, as if the chill in the air meant anything else. Its not the cold, love! Its your job thats the problembringing home all that junk from the shop! Ive told you a dozen times, change your line of work!
Emily was dozing when a sudden bang jolted the flat. She rubbed her eyes, glanced at the clockonly eight in the morning.
James, darling, is that you? she called, listening for any sign of movement.
No answer. She heard the bathroom door open and then silence.
She threw on a robe, hurried barefoot to the bathroom, flung the door open, and stopped dead.
There stood James, leaning in front of the mirror, his lips stretched, tongue sticking out like a silly joke.
Emily, is it true that a person with a cold gets a white tongue? he asked, halfamused.
Are you saying youre coming down with something? she replied, halfasleep.
Probably, he said, touching his forehead. I need a thermometer. Where did we put it? Let me lie down. Theyve let me off work. We might have to call the doctor.
Emily fetched the glass thermometer. It read 37.2°C. Just a cold snap, she thought, as James curled up on the sofa. An hour later the doctor arrived, gave a sick note, and sent them home.
Emily rang her mother.
Could you pick up little Charlie from nursery? He cant come homeJames is ill.
Her mother, who lived alone and adored her grandson, was happy to help.
What about little James? Anything serious?
No, just a routine check. The doctor gave us a note, some rest, and a few simple treatments.
How are you holding up? her mother asked.
Fine! I have a second shift at work, and Ill ask my motherinlaw to drop by this evening to look after James. Thatll be a whole week of secondshift days. Thanks, Mum.
So the plan was set: a light chicken broth, some carrots and potatoes, and a quick run to the corner shop and the pharmacy. Emily grabbed the groceries, then nudged James awake.
James, get up, have some soup, she said, shaking his shoulder.
He sat up, pale.
I feel a bit queasy. Could you bring the soup to the bed? I cant make it to the kitchen.
Is it that bad? she asked. Alright, Ill bring it. Then you can check your temperature again.
He ate, she took his temperature againstill 37.2°C. She handed him the prescribed tablets. He turned his face to the wall and drifted back to sleep. Thank heavens.
In England, Jamess sick pay covered his time off, but Emilys shop didnt. With the mortgage and car loan looming, she couldnt afford any loss of income. She phoned her motherinlaw, Inna Thompson.
Inna, James is ill. Could you keep an eye on him this evening? The shops busy and I cant get through to him.
Innas eyebrows shot up. What do you mean ill? How is he?
Hes sleeping. Just a slight fever, the cold has set in.
Inna laughed, Its not the cold, love! Its your job that drags you home with all that rubbish! Ive told you again and again, change your line of work!
Emily cut her off. Inna loved to make a mountain out of a molehill and would be at the door any minute. Let her have a look, Emily muttered, Ive got to get ready for my shift.
Sure enough, Inna arrived laden with bags of herbal teas and homemade poultices, declaring they might help. She fussed over Jamess damp shirt, wailing, Look at you, lying in a wet shirt! Youll get worse. How could you have missed this?
James was already asleep, Inna, Emily replied. What else could I have done?
Emily headed to work. A few hours later she felt a wave of weakness herselfshe was catching the same sniffles. She forced herself to finish the shift, took her temperature at nighthigher than Jamess. She wanted to complain to him, but he was preoccupied with his tablet.
My throats sore, Im shivering. Mum gave me tea with blackberry and honey; it helped a little, but Im still feeling rough. What should I take?
Same here, not great, James murmured, glancing at his tongue in the mirror. Its still white.
She knew she couldnt admit to being sick; the bills wouldnt wait. If she told her mother, shed get a call every five minutes with unsolicited advice; if she mentioned it to Inna, shed get scolded; and James would just drift on his own tide.
The decision was made: keep quiet, take the pills, and push on with work. The loans werent going anywhere.
All week James wallowed in his weak state, complaining that even a perfect 37°C felt dreadful. Inna visited daily with her brews and tinctures, and Emily tried to avoid her as much as possible.
James barely noticed anything, drifting between the television and his phone. When Emily came home, she checked his temperature, and by the fourth day it was finally normal.
His weakness lingered, but it passed. He stayed in bed longer, demanding food delivered to him, temperature checks, and a drink whenever he asked. Inna kept reminding everyone that James had been frail as a child, and now this was the first cold in five years of marriageunbearable! she declared.
James trudged through the mild illness, constantly griping about how terrible he felt.
The following week the doctor cleared him, and Charlie was taken home from nursery. James was set to return to work the next day.
Sitting at the kitchen table with a steaming mug of tea, James sighed, Back when I was a kid, a cold didnt bother me much. Now it feels like the worlds collapsing.
Emily nudged him, Whats so special about it? Why cant you just handle it?
Youd have to be in my shoes to know, James retorted. Easy to talk when youre healthy.
Ive been there too, Emily replied. You just didnt see it.
James gave her a skeptical look, then a mischievous grin, as if hed caught her in a joke. Alright, love, lets get to bed.
Emily exhaled, Yes, he never notices anything
And thats how it goeswhen the temperature hits 37°C, only a woman whos been through childbirth can truly grasp what her husband endures.
