White Dog came into the bathroom where I sat in the dark coughing. Bella and Nilla and Sachi were already around me. "Can't a girl go potty without an audience?" I asked.
"You are sick, aren't you?" WD asked and before I coud even answer my three bedroom shadows gave the answer.
"Don't go and wake dad," I begged but it was too late. White Dog as already on the bed and Sachi was hopping and scratching for Steve's attention. He hurried into the bathroom groggy from his meds and concerned about the scope of the problem.
"They did not need to wake you. I think I am coming down with what you have...at least the beginnings of it."
The thermometer was applied to my forehead, my finger stuck in the little device to measure Oxygen saturation, and Steve was taking my pulse. It did not help my argument that all was fine when I attempted to speak and my voice was hoarse and cutin-and-out.
"Back to bed," was the concensus...which in fact, was where I was heading BEFORE all the drama. "Take this and keep your oxygen on," I was ordered. I fell back into bed and settled under the deep comforter.
White Dog and Steve exchanged a plan. "Let's let her sleep in. And I will assign the Army to make sure she spends the entire day at rest." Steve climbed back to bed and WD headed back to her room. Everyne else had rearranged themselves to be within a paw's reach of me.
Surrounded by the best care imaginable, I spent the day wrapped in a chair and guarded. And WD was right, the cold entrenched itself.