I don’t think I ever had any unusual experiences when I had childhood fevers. I would just hunker down and sleep, waking only when my mother urged me to take a few sips of punch or fruit juice mixed with ginger ale. I do remember wishing good stuff like that would be available when I might feel well enough to enjoy it.
When I was bored and not sleeping, I would stare at the cracks in the ceiling and try to see images of dogs or butterflies or faces. Wallpaper was also a good source of face-like images. Fortunately I never saw anything spooky or scary.
My husband has different memories. When he was young a fever would inspire him to stare at a nearby window and watch it slowly get farther away and smaller. When it got really small, he would blink quickly to make the real world come back. He has also had this experience as an adult, and still blinked.
A few years ago when I had a fever, I too watched a window recede far from me. As it got smaller and more distant I began to feel uneasy. The experience was mesmerizing, and the feeling of impending irreversibility caused panic and the irresistible urge to blink to return to reality. That nagging feeling of “what-if-I-couldn’t-return” is overwhelming.
I won’t try that again.