sick kid alert

BC is coughing nastily, phlegmily, croupily. fortunately, she has no temperature, so it might just be a crappy cold. but who knows. she has had croup already about 8 times in her life, and it is frightening every single damn time. she fights to breathe. it usually hits around 11pm, without fail. and then, the drill. i get the shower all steamy, BS takes her in the steam and lets her inhale the warm air while i put on warm clothes. then, i wrap her up as warmly as i can and take her out onto the deck into the cold night air, which somehow also helps her. for some reason, that is how it works. then, while i am outside, BS prepares the foldout bed in the sunroom. then, i bring in BC, who is thrilled to be spending the night in the sunroom sleeping with her daddy.

unless, of course, it is one of those nights where i can't help her to breathe. then, we have the delightful, middle-of-the-night emergency room experience. the one where it takes a long time to get her some assistance (because there are people with gunshot wounds or something probably more serious, i guess), and by the time she gets it, she is doing better. and then we wonder whether we should have brought her in in the first place. but you wouldn't want to not bring her in if she really, truly needed it.

parenthood is scarier than skydiving. my hair will be grey by the time i am 40.


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