Poor Jocey has had a miserable weekend. She couldn't manage a smile or a laugh all weekend (except once on Sunday for Gung-Gung and Po-Po) which is just so out of character. The chicken pox made her feel dreadful and she kept running a high fever. It was horrible to see her like that and hear her whimpering in her distress.
I took her to the out-of-hours GP (not our regular one who is excellent - we changed practices and our new GP is very good) for a second opinion yesterday because she was still running a fever of 39. I was concerned that the spots on her back may have got infected because they were looking red and angry. However, when we got there, he didn't look at them and didn't really listen to me (he asked me the same questions twice so he obviously hadn't heard my answers the first time). I got the impression that he had made up his mind in the first 5 seconds of us coming in and we were dismissed in under 5 minutes.
I despair sometimes.
Anyway, I continued with the paracetamol and ibuprofen and thankfully her fever finally broke last night. She is cool this morning but still pretty miserable but at least able to sleep. I am just thankful that she has turned the corner.
We are having some minor work done to the house over the next few days so I will be retreating into the bedroom with her and giving her plenty of hugs and cuddles.