Mystery Science Fever

Peach is sleeping hard after day three of the fever-that-shall-not-be-named.

Seriously, no one knows what to call it.

We know it responds to acetaminophen and ibuprofen, otherwise climbing to 105 degrees.
We know it's not particularly contagious, as neither Pimento nor Daddy have contracted it.  (I'm excluding myself because, not to jinx it or anything, I seem to have a fairly ironclad constitution.  My ancestors were nothing short of hardy stock, I imagine.)
We know it's not a stomach bug, ear infection, food poisoning, sinus infection, pneumonia or strep, three of which she's already battled over the past four months.

So, the doctor says, we have to "wait and see" if it resolves itself.
If it doesn't, then we'll test for other, more hidden infections.

A friend suggested it could be Roseola, also known as sixth disease, which resolves in a painless, full-body rash after about five days of high fever.  Not so bad, compared to some of the alternative explanations my worst-case-scenario machine is working up: Meningitis, blood infection, Encephalitis...  I'm getting a stomachache imagining the multitude of horrific possibilities.

I should mention that, every time Peach gets sick, Daddy's bedside manner easily trumps mine.  He's the stalwart soother, calm and reassuring through the worst symptoms, ready with the right meds at precisely the right moment to prevent a fever flare-up.  It was his precautionary sense that helped catch her pneumonia with a chest x-ray at the weekend clinic just two days after our regular pediatrician declared her lungs to be clear, despite a relentless cough.  And Peach is starting to catch on, insisting upon her Daddy's care and companionship to buoy her through this illness.  It is bittersweet for me, seeing my original "Mama's Girl" push me away, albeit in favor of the guy I'm so crazy about, too.  He's my favorite nurse by far.
...

Peach just woke up sweaty and panicked, clamoring for me to pick her up while whining something incoherent.  Once deposited on the couch with her new BFF, Daddy, she rebounded instantly, snuggling into his lap with a smile.  Her temp has dropped back to 97.3, her "normal", but is that because she's functioning on a dose each of acetaminophen and ibuprofen?

We'll have to "wait and see".