I am just now getting coffee, at 12:30 pm on Saturday, and it's been a slow morning. Jimmy woke up around 2 am wheezing and coughing and barking, scared that he couldn't breathe. He was coming down with a cold yesterday, runny nose, watery eyes, I should have seen it coming. His tonsils blow up like balloons when he gets sick.
Is 6 years old too old for croupe? I need to pull out the Dr. Sears, which I've read piecemeal probably two dozen times, but worry can make you forget, and need reassurances.
So we turned on the shower, gave him some meds, and I sat with him and held him on my shoulder, because he was so scared and worked up. His breathing got better, his throat was soothed, and when he finally fell asleep, Jamie and I discussed whether to visit the ER (which at the Navy hospital, really functions like an acute care clinic because it's near to impossible to win the lottery and get a same day appointment with your tricare pcm . . . sorry, I digress,that's another post entirely . . .). We decided to let him sleep, but then I couldn't sleep because I needed to listen to him breathe, of course. So I slept in his room last night.
When the sun came up, a telemarketer called and woke Jamie, me, and the baby, and Jimmy was sleeping and breating normally. Quietly. So now let's see if I can win the lottery and get him an appointment. Looks like it's a chicken and dumplings day.
