The topic of fevers has come up in one of my groups lately. Forever a product of my time, like many Boomers my gut reaction to an elevated temp is to take whatever steps available to get it down as soon as possible. In the early 1970s when my first kids were little, the drill was to reach for the bottle of little orange pills, the baby aspirin, and start dosing with those.

Acetaminophen and Ibuprofen are today’s drugs of choice. I have these sent over from the States and keep a good supply. Along with the new drugs comes a new perspective: fevers are good.

I understand the concept; it makes total sense, is completely logical and comes from qualified sources I greatly respect. I now have enough information to relax when the mercury hits 38 or 39 (It’s all centigrade here, and that takes some getting used to.), to dispense fluids and keep a close, yet calm, eye on the situation.

Yeah, right.

That may have been possible once (although I doubt it, considering my background and my mother’s voice that I continue to hear in my right ear when things are stressful) but not since Sam has his first febrile seizure.

If you’ve never seen one of these, be very, very thankful. At eighteen months old our darling boy went rigid in his father’s arms, then began to convulse, stopped breathing and turned blue.

Somewhere in the back of my frantic mind I recalled a description of febrile seizures I had come across while doing kid-raising homework. I was not, however, ready to do anything other than bundle him into the car and get to the hospital in Anse Royale (over the hill and the other side of the island) as quickly as we could.

Convulsions brought on by a sudden rise in body temperature are fairly common in young children and reputedly not dangerous. Caused by an immature nervous system, it’s something they grow out of, usually by age five or six, and there is a strong hereditary influence.

In families where the children are biologically linked, at least one parent could be aware of the tendency to fit with fever, possibly having had the same experience in childhood. When your kids are adopted, coming with little or no family medical history, as is the case in most international adoptions, you have to be prepared to be surprised.

Thankfully, Sam is fine. He’s had two of these ‘events’, but no problems once he’s recovered.

What you’re hearing now is the sound of my knuckles tapping the oak of my desk.