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Mo-Mo Is Ill
(after Jane Walsh)
Mo-Mo went down with a chill, or so I thought. She came home
from school one Monday afternoon complaining about a headache. She
really looked seedy.
I tucked her up in bed and gave her hot drinks. The next morning
she seemed quite normal again, but I kept her in bed just to be on the
safe side.
The day after she was just as bad as ever, and had a very high
temperature.
I ran down to the doctor without stopping to put on an outdoor coat.
"Really," the doctor mumbled, "you mothers seem to t h ink I have
nothing else to do but run around after your children. Children are
always running temperatures. Ah ... well ... I'll come in and see you
later."
When she came it was eleven o'clock at night. She woke Mo-Mo,
took her temperature and felt her pulse. Then she gave me two tablets
for her and a prescription for more.
I told her Mo-Mo's legs seemed to be affected but she just wasn't
listening. She gave me a mumbled sort of lecture on running for the
doctor whenever there was the slightest thing wrong with a child, and,
still mumbling, went home.
She promised to look in again the following morning.
But the next few days were anxious ones for me. Mo-Mo was really
ill and the doctor never came.
I sat up with her every night, trying to warm her little legs. She had
no use in them and they were always cold.
Late on Sunday night the doctor came again. She was still tired and
said she would look at Mo-Mo's legs the following day.
I went o f f to work the following morning with a very heavy heart.
My little one did not seem any better at all.
I was working part-time f o r two business ladies, cleaning their
f l a t and giving their invalid brother his midday meal.
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