Frances had it first: fever, lethargy, yuckness.
Then Eleanor crashed, much worse, I think that was Thursday night. Her fever (this girl doesn’t get fevers) ran up to 104 and all the ibuprofen and acetaminophen aboard wasn’t bringing it down. Saturday morning I took Eleanor to the hospital where they covered her in cool compresses, drew blood and urine for testing, and spent about 40 minutes looking at every organ in her abdomen with an ultrasound.
La Paz had a run of Dengue Fever following last year’s hurricane and the doctor was looking for evidence of this.
“Influenza” was his verdict.
“That’s good…wait, so she’s contagious?”
“Si.”
That night the fever and aches and pains made sleep for me impossible. The next morning Windy was feeling crappy. Frances was starting to feel better, but still coughing.
Living on a boat in close quarters with your spouse and kids is the greatest thing in the world. Coughing and sneezing and moaning and blowing noses isn’t living, and to do that together for a string of days in close quarters just sucks. I went in this morning to get some water because we were out; tomorrow we’re all talking about maybe getting ashore to shower and launder bedding.
We’ve not been sick like this since we started cruising. The real bummer of it though? The timing. We missed two important events on our calendar (and we’re cruisers, these were the only two events on our calendar): a wedding aboard a friend’s boat and the first spay/neuter clinic held in France’s name by the Sociedad Humanitaria de La Paz (SHLP). The big-hearted volunteers who organize these clinics even made a cake for the absent Frances.
But the good news is that the wedding was a success without us and 50 cats and dogs were fixed at the clinic without us. And while there will not be a repeat wedding before we take off for French Polynesia, there will hopefully be another clinic around the end of this month that we can all attend.
Following is a Facebook capture of a video that the SHLP organizers made for Frances. These are all friendly faces we’ve come to know.
In our twenties, we traded our boat for a house and our freedom for careers. In our thirties, we lived the American dream. In our forties, we woke and traded our house for a boat and our careers for freedom. And here we are. Click here to read more from the Log of Del Viento.
