A spot of mono

Nobody likes to be sick.

And nobody likes to be sick with lymph glands swollen to the size of grapes, a 100-plus degree fever, massive flaming tonsils, chapped lips and a faceful of spots.

Quinn, however, doesn't seem to mind. It's 9:15 p.m. on Saturday -- way past bed time -- and the Cap'n is spinning in circles, looking to play with his bubbles and finishing a movie. I'd enforce some kind of curfew if I wasn't so pleased that he isn't miserable.

Because yesterday afternoon, I was worried.

Constant complaints about a sore mouth and a sore belly, coupled with the high fever, precipitated our second visit to the doctor in a week. Initially, the doctor was visibly worried -- the massive size of his lymph nodes led her to fear the worst. But a favorable blood test showed he is more likely fighting off a virus, and he has the symptoms of mononucleosis.

Our hope, naturally, is that this mono (or whatever it is) runs its course quickly, rather than the months-long lethargy that can come with the illness. So far, our fears are subsiding. Despite difficulty sleeping and periodic fevers, the good Cap'n Quinn has been his normal ebullient self, albeit spotted and bored from being stuck indoors.

Perhaps the most challenging part has been keeping him away from his little brother.

Keaton continues to fill out nicely. The little Skipper loves to look around at the world, his big eyes wandering at whatever moves, no matter the hour.

Naturally, we'd prefer he stick to eating, sleeping and pooping in regular intervals, but a little human curiosity isn't something to discourage.