My fever rests at 102 now. I don't know if it's because Lochlan is always so warm when we nap or if I'm sicker than I even realized in my bid to be so stubborn. We're at a pub now that boasts state lottery, pool tables and handmade burgers and the server was dispatched to bring us some chicken soup and crackers.
The camper has a tiny little wonky heater. I don't trust it, it took Lochlan 35 minutes of tinkering with it to get it to turn on so I'm guessing a combination of strep throat and post traumatic stress disorder will be what kills me. It's been fun. Soup is here.
