The doctor's voice carries the weight of genuine relief, but beneath it lies something else—something that sounds almost like disbelief.
"Thank God, Mr. Ellis, you brought him here on time."
He shakes his head slowly, as if he's still trying to make sense of it himself.
"His fever was over 105°F." He looks up, meeting my eyes through the thin wire of his glasses. "Normally, a person with a temperature that high wouldn't even be conscious. They'd be slipping away. Close to the edge."
He pauses, adjusting his glasses slightly. "But your husband was fully conscious. He was walking, talking, and functioning as though nothing was wrong." Another pause. "I've rarely seen anything like it."
I stay silent. I don't know what to say.
Over 105°F.
"Fortunately, we've brought his temperature down with emergency treatment and started intravenous fluids. We'll continue to monitor him, and if he remains stable over the next two hours, you can take him home."
