Two words: febrile.hallucinations.
You mean one of the best things ever?!
The whumpee falls into a fitful sleep and gets tangled in his blankets.
He wakes up hallucinating and agitated; and it only gets worse when his mobility is limited by his sheets.
The caretaker, who hasn’t left his side, hushes him and tells him “It’s okay. Hey, look at me! I promise there’s nothing there.”
The whumpee is a sweating, shaking wreck, mumbling deliriously. Maybe he’s apologizing for something he did in his past? Or maybe he’s begging a perceived threat to leave him and his caretaker alone?
“You don’t understand,” he rasps at his caretaker as he tries desperately to get out of bed. “We have to get out of here. Now.”
The caretaker calmly explains that there’s no danger, and he’s running a really high fever. They work to keep their friend in bed, and untangle the blankets. That seems to help.
The whumpee’s eyes still dart around the room, but the caretaker presses his shoulders back down. The caretaker smiles at him, but they are very concerned about the way heat is rolling off the whumpee’s body.
Or imagine the caretaker resolving to get the whumpee to the hospital once he starts seeing things that aren’t there.
They slowly, carefully lead him to the vehicle, offering calm reassurances all the while; trying to get him to focus on putting one foot in front of the other, rather than the visions plaguing him.
And the ride to the hospital is no easier. The caretaker drives as quickly as he dares, dividing his attention between the road and their trembling friend. The whumpee’s head lolls against the passenger side window, but it snaps up when he thinks he hears/sees something.
By the time they get to the hospital, the whumpee must rely on the caretaker for support, and the bright lights cause him to curl in on himself even more. He’s muttering things the caretaker can’t understand, and when medical staff takes him to be treated, he looks back at the caretaker with fearful, unfocused eyes.
Or the triple threat (and probably my personal favorite): Hallucinations caused by a fever that is caused by an infected wound!
The whumpee is unable to care of his wounds as his fever climbs, but he won’t let his doctors/caretakers anywhere near him because instead of help, he sees his whumper.
He backs himself into a corner, shaking his head while clutching his painful wound when they insist they need to see his injury.
He becomes combative, and the medical staff/his caretakers must resort to manhandling him for his own good.
And of course there’s always the good, old ‘holding the whumpee down in cold water to bring their fever down!’
He raves, and begs, and struggles against his “attackers.” He’s already freezing, and he hurts, and why are they doing this to him?! Just leave him alone!
It doesn’t take long for his energy to deplete itself, but he still pants and pleads. His tears blend in with the water on his face.