You should lie down. You look very pale, and bad.
Go to sleep. You are very sick.
I don't have anything.
One hundred and two. I am going to prescribe three capsules for him to get better.
What is his temperature?
He went into the room to close the windows. Schatz was still in his bed. His face was pale, and he was walking as if it pained him to move.
I feel the same way. I prefer to stay awake.
How do you feel? Why don't you try to sleep?
He came downstairs and saw him dressed. Schatz was only nine years old and looked very ill. He touched his forehead and realized he had a fever.
Do not enter the room. I don't want you to get infected
I'm going to take your temperature.
After the doctor's examination, he gave the instructions for the medications. One was to treat the fever, another purge, and the last one for the acid. According to the doctor, it was a mild flu epidemic. There was nothing to worry about, as long as the fever was no higher than one hundred and four degrees.
When am I going to die? I have two hundred and two degrees, and at school in France, they told me that you can't live with more than forty-four.
You will not die! In France, they use other measurement scales. It's like miles and kilometers.
When he returned to the room, he took his temperature and read him a book. He also made notes to monitor his temperature and medications. After a while, Schatz insisted that he be left alone in his room.
He went out for a while. When he returned, they told him that the boy had refused to allow anyone to enter the room. When he entered the room, he found Schatz in the same position he had left him and with the same symptoms.
He continued reading the book, but Schatz seemed very distant and distracted. He was very concerned about his temperature. After learning that his temperature was not excessively high, his tension decreased, and he relaxed.