When two emperors fall ill at the same time — one furry and one not — the royal court is pushed to its limits. Here at home we have been running a full palace operation: medicines, ice lollies, changing blankets, and dealing with a cat litter box situation that should come with hazard pay. Yet life keeps moving, in that chaotic, comedic, and strangely tender way it always does.
Read this post in Swedish ->När två kejsare blir sjuka – och hovet går på knäna
When Two Emperors Fall Ill – and the Royal Court Falls Apart
I wrote this a couple of days ago, right in the middle of sickness, cat medication, and household chaos. I saved it until today — and let it remain just as it was when life was full and I ran between two tiny kingdoms.
Emperor Findus and His Overworked Court
We have a sick little emperor at home. Findus has been at the animal hospital, living his best aristocratic life. He came home not with a crown, but with probiotics — which he despises with every fiber of his furry being.
Salmonella.
In the cat.
Oh yes.
And here we are, running around like dizzy little servants, bending our backs to serve His Majesty.
But satisfied?
Absolutely not.
Not with the food.
Not with the ear ointment.
And certainly not with the probiotics we sprinkle over his meals as if we were trying to bribe a stubborn toddler with glitter.
And when the emperor uses his royal toilet…
Well.
That is a crisis in itself.
We replace the litter box in pure panic, yet the scent lingers like a reminder that the court might deserve occupational health support.
At least we are smarter now.
We’ve bought those litter box bags — just lift, tie, poof! gone.
The best invention since the vacuum cleaner.
The Emperor Who Wants to Go Outside — But Absolutely Cannot
Findus wants out.
Then in.
Then out again.
He roams around like a displeased monarch who finds his people too slow.
But the vet was crystal clear:
- No outdoor time
- No bird hunting
- No stepping outside
- No freedom whatsoever
Try explaining that to an emperor.
He positions himself by the door and squeaks in falsetto:
“Open the door, woman. I command it.”
And there I am, saying no.
Again.
And again.
With love, but also with a deep sigh only cat parents understand.
In the Kitchen — and the Other Emperor Waiting
In the middle of all this, I’m in the kitchen cooking, and suddenly I think:
I am so tired of seeing what people cook.
At least what I cook.
Yet here I am with my meat cave of onions, carrots, spinach, and ground beef — while the cat pretends he wants to go out but actually just wants a sample from the pan.
But the important part isn’t the food.
It’s everything happening around it:
The smell of frying onions.
The cat’s eternal complaining.
The potatoes boiling over.
The thoughts slowly settling as my hands keep working.
Life lives in the in-between spaces.
When Two Emperors Fall Ill – the Bigger Emperor Takes Over
When we came home with Findus, the bigger emperor lay in bed.
Small, despite being larger.
Hot with fever.
Pale.
Speaking with that thin little voice children have when their energy is gone:
“Carina… I’m cold.”
I barely had time to take off my jacket.
Ear thermometer: 39.5°C.
Medicine.
Water.
Blankets.
Comforting.
Repeat.
He hadn’t eaten the pizza he got the night before, but when the fever loosened its grip he took a few bites in bed.
And during the day, a couple of ice lollies found their way to him as well.
Ice lollies are medicine in a child’s world. Universal law.
The next morning:
Ice cream for breakfast.
Sparkling water with lemon.
Tea with honey.
And me running a marathon between the cat’s medications, the thermometers, and the kitchen.
Before bed he wanted to change blankets.
As if he needed a new wrapping for the night.
And it helped — the fever dropped, his eyes lost their glassy look.
He’ll stay home a bit longer.
The body needs rest before school returns.
When the Emperor Finally Slept
When little emperor number two finally fell asleep, I stood there in the doorway.
Not next to him — but close enough to feel that soft thread of worry that comes when children are unwell.
Yesterday the fever was gone, but the headache and stiffness showed up instead.
I explained that this happens when you lie in bed all day with your head at a strange angle.
He nodded slowly.
Accepted the explanation like a king receiving important information.
And so the day continued:
Two emperors.
One court.
And a home where life simply… happens.
Reflection
There is something that shifts inside us when life contracts and asks us to tend to our small kingdoms. The world gets smaller and bigger at the same time.
We run, comfort, medicate, clean, worry, and laugh — and in all of that, something quiet appears.
A reminder that love often shows itself most clearly when nothing else works.
Your Voice: Between the Lines
This isn’t a story about sickness.
It’s a story about responsibility, humor, and care.
About doing your best even when you’re tired.
About laughing even when everything smells like cat litter.
About being the grown-up — fully, deeply — in the moments that matter.
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Yesterday has already settled down in history. Tomorrow waits somewhere ahead.
But right now — this is where life happens.
Here you can read about the little cat’s journey this time. A Weekend of Worry and Warmth.
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