after midnight

it’s after midnight. and for over a week now, girlfriend awakes in this time, starts barking and coughing her head off, and generally gets hysterical. with her coughing history, we are never sure whether it’s allergies, reflux, an actual infection, a virus, or none of the above. a good friend’s twins also has this and was told it’s viral, which of course means we just have to suck it up and deal.

but it’s hard to suck it up and deal when no one is getting any sleep around here.

girlfriend already missed two days of school last week because she felt so incredibly awful. of course, this week is the week that her class is in mandated swim lessons. today, she told me she could barely make it through the laps she was required to swim; it was difficult to breathe. between the nasonex, albuterol, allegra (interspersed at times with benedryl, which gave her scary dreams last night when she was sleeping), and the z-pack, i just don’t know what the hell to do.

girlfriend gets hysterical because she knows she’s waking everyone up. getting hysterical, as we all know, doesn’t help. no one is mad at her because she’s coughing. we people of the adult variety may seem a little stiff and gruff at this hour only because we, too, are feeling the effects of negligible sleep; but no one is mad at the girl. we want to help her. we just feel completely helpless at the moment.

my magic wand is broken at the moment, so i can’t seem to wave it and make things all better. it just so figures it would fail me at this moment.


2 Responses to “after midnight”

  1. Oh Wreke, I’m so so sorry. Lack of sleep makes me feel like I’m losing my mind. Your poor little girl.

  2. I would lend you my magic wand, but it, too, seems to be on the fritz. (u know, i have a wand somewhere at my mom’s house stemming from my stint as fairy godmother in my senior play…cringe at the thought)

    I am so sorry for your sweet little lady. The daughter of a friend always gets the same thing that seems to stick with her through Winter. They frequent the emergency room in the wee hours for breathing treatments. The doctors here just throw their hands up, “Bronchitis. Must be bronchitis.” I wish I had a cure-all treatment for you. My hillbilly momma would smear V!cks on her feet, cover them with socks, and tuck her in for the night.

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