How could it be a slight chill? What state is he in? the motherinlaw gasped. Hes sleeping. Nothing serious, just a touch of fever, the winters begun.
Its not just winter! Your job drags all that cold home with you! How many times must I tell you change your line of work!
Eleanor was dozing when a sudden clang rang through the flat: someone had forced the front door open. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, glanced at the clock only eight oclock in the morning.
Oliver, love, is that you? she asked, startled, listening for any other sounds.
No answer came. She heard only the faint creak of the bathroom door swinging shut and then silence.
She threw on a simple dressing gown, slipped barefoot into the bathroom and, pulling the door wide, was taken aback.
There, at the sink, stood Oliver, his lips drawn back, tongue poking out in a curious grin.
Eleanor, is it true that when a person catches a chill their tongue turns white? he asked.
Are you feeling the chill yourself? she replied sleepily.
I think so, Oliver said, touching his forehead with a worried finger. I need a thermometer. Where did we put it? Let me lie down. Theyve let me off early from work. Well probably have to call the doctor.
Eleanor fetched the glass thermometer. It read thirtyseven point two degrees Celsius a modest fever. The winter had settled in and Oliver collapsed onto the bed. A housedoctor arrived an hour later and handed out a sick note.
Eleanor dialed her mothers number.
Could you pick up little Sam from the nursery? He cant go home yet Olivers come down with a chill.
Her mother, who lived alone and adored her grandchild, agreed gladly.
And what about Oliver? Anything serious?
Nothing extraordinary. The doctors given us a note, prescribed a few simple treatments, and well rest.
How are you feeling, dear? her mother asked.
Fine, really. Ive got a second shift at work later; Ill ask the motherinlaw to drop by this evening and keep an eye on Oliver. And so a whole week of double shifts began. All right, thank you, Mum, weve agreed.
The plan was simple: a light chicken broth, which meant a quick run to the corner shop as well as the chemist. Eleanor fetched a few chicken thighs from the freezer, bought carrots and potatoes, and stocked up on the necessary medicines at the pharmacy.
At lunch she nudged her husband awake.
Oliver, get up and have some soup, she coaxed, shaking his shoulder.
Halfasleep, Oliver sat up in bed.
I feel a bit nauseous. Could you bring the soup to the bedside? I cant make it to the kitchen.
Is it that bad? Very well, Ill bring it. You can check your temperature afterwards
He ate the broth, she took his temperature again still thirtyseven point two. She handed him his tablets. Oliver turned his face to the wall and fell asleep once more. Thank heavens.
In their household, a sick pay certificate covered Olivers absence, but not Eleanors; the familys mortgage and other debts left her no room for a pause. She rang the motherinlaw.
Mrs. Ingram, Olivers come down with a chill. Could you look after him this evening? We usually have many customers then and I cant get through to him.
How could it bea chill? What condition is he in? the motherinlaw exclaimed.
Hes sleeping. Its just a slight rise in temperature, the winter has begun.
Its not just winter! Your line of work brings all that cold home! How many times must I tell you change your job!
Mrs. Ingram, Im not weak! You yourself said Oliver could collapse at a moments notice as a child. The frost is setting in, so I have nothing to add
Eleanor cut the conversation short. Mrs. Ingram loved to make a mountain out of a molehill, and she would be at the door within the hour. Let her have a look; I must get ready for work, Eleanor thought.
Sure enough, the motherinlaw arrived with boxes of herbs and tinctures, insisting they might help. She fussed over Olivers damp shirt, scolding Eleanor.
Look at you, letting him lie there in a wet shirt only makes him worse. How could you miss that?
Mrs. Ingram, he was already asleep what could I have done?
Eleanor headed out for her shift. After a few hours she felt her own weakness creeping in. Well, Im feeling faint too! But I cant show it; I must finish the shift. By evening her temperature was higher than Olivers. She wanted to complain, but Oliver was preoccupied with his own discomfort.
I feel a chill and a shiver. Mother gave me tea with berries and honey; it helped a bit, but by night Im still uneasy. What should I take?
Youre feeling ill as well
Then take something, Oliver replied, glancing once more at his pale tongue in the mirror. Its still white, after all.
She knew she could not afford to fall ill; complaining would only bring a barrage of advice from her mother or accusations from the motherinlaw, while Oliver would simply ride his own wave.
The decision was made: keep quiet, take the tablets discreetly, and keep working. The mortgages would not disappear.
All week Oliver moaned about his frailty, insisting that even though his thermometer read a steady thirtyseven, he felt terrible. The motherinlaws visits grew more frequent, bringing infusions and boiled concoctions that Eleanor dreaded seeing at home. Her own appearance suffered, and Oliver, halfasleep, flicked the television or his phone, oblivious to the households tension.
On the fourth day Eleanor finally measured a normal temperature. The weakness lingered, but they managed. Oliver stayed in bed longer, demanding meals brought to him, his temperature checked, his drink fetched.
Mrs. Ingram claimed he had always been a delicate child, now finally catching a cold after five years of marriage, which she declared unbearable. Oliver battled his slight ailment with constant complaints.
The following week the doctor discharged him. Sam was collected from the nursery, and Oliver was due back at work the next day.
Later, seated at the kitchen table with an evening cup of tea, Oliver recounted:
In childhood everything passed through easier; now this you cant imagine!
And whats so special about it? Why did you not cope?
Youd know if you were in my shoes! Its easy to talk when youre healthy.
I was! Ive been through it too, but you simply didnt notice.
Oliver gave her a skeptical look, then a crooked grin, as if to expose her.
Joking, are you? Very well, lets get to bed.
Eleanor sighed, He never noticed anything.
And so it was, as the old saying goes, only a woman who has borne children can truly understand what a husband feels when his temperature sits at thirtyseven.
