Odd sort of comfort

She was glad her dad had stayed with her and not Jack.

There were a lot of sensible reasons why, the fact that she and her dad needed to talk was not the least of them.

But right now she was glad for one irrational, most likely petty reason she realized as she held the bundle of tissues gently in her hand. She didn't care what Jack said and it was probably more her issues than anything Chris was still glad he hadn't been there when she realized her extra digits had fallen off during the night. It hadn't hurt but she had felt it and seen the fingers lying in the bed, blackening and dead. The skin on her hands where the fingers had been was pink and new.

She had been confused about what she should do but her dad had just rolled his eyes, impatient, and told her to 'Just throw them out.'

Like this was an everyday occurrence. (Something she had snapped at him while gingerly wrapping the dead digits in tissue paper.)

She was sure if she hadn't been sick this would have led to her dad chiding her about using her "common sense" but she had been given a pass. This time.

As self-conscious as she was it was nice to have her father act like this was nothing out of the ordinary. Just another illness and nothing to get worked up over.

You could even say it was comforting.