Little Boy woke in the night with a mid-level fever, moaning and crying and generally unhappy. I gave him an age-appropriate dose of Tylenol, then sat back in the rocking chair to soothe his wee self. As we snuggled, his hot head pressing against my shoulder, I felt a surge of gratitude for that basic drug, and for all of modern medicine. I don’t have to sit through the night, listening to his cries of discomfort and praying for the fever to break. I can make him comfortable and loved and relaxed and give him the sleep his body needs.
What’s your favorite part of modern medicine?