Despite Christopher's asthma diagnosis in October and Conor's funky fever in December, the kids have been quite healthy this winter.
Then, apparently, came spring.
I really don't mind fevers and viruses. I can handle those problems. Even with Christopher's asthma, we have learned how to handle respiratory problems and keep him healthy. So Christopher kicking off Spring Break with a 102.6 fever is no big whoop-dee-doo except it means we skipped the Easter Egg hunt and Easter Services.
I do not, however, like these two things:
1) fatigue and lethargy (with a fever)
2) rattles/gurgles at end of an exhale.
Both of those have been pretty strong indicators of pneumonia in our family.
And Christopher's extra long naps over the weekend and his refusal to wake up in the morning were diagnosed with pneumonia on Monday and Bridget's rattling breath on Tuesday night got her the diagnosis on Wednesday. They are both on antibiotics and Christopher is responding very well. I'll tell you though: Thank God(dess) bless albuterol. Monday night, Christopher was hacking up a lung every two hours and within seconds after treatment, he was back to sleep, gently snoring. Bridget is not doing as well, but she hasn't been on the daily steroids like him, so I'm hoping she turns her corner soon, too.
On Tuesday between the twins' pneumonia diagnoses, I went to the orthopedic surgeon to have an ongoing pain looked at in my foot. I have enormous feet that were only made larger by the twins' pregnancy. When I started running back in September, I had no problems, but I failed to change my shoes in time when they wore out, and apparently, the middle bones of my feet have been taking on too much stress and pressure and are irritated. (Of course my feet are irritated at me) I thought I had a stress fracture, so I'm thrilled I do not.
And despite having bunions that the PA declared as "impressive," I do not have to have surgery. And indeed they do not recommend it. So I will state what those of you who know me in real life must have figured out: my feet are hideous! I mean horribly ugly. Even if they score in the top 99th percentile of big ass bunions to orthopedic surgeons, to the rest of the world: AVERT YE EYES!
I don't care. I am past being embarrassed about my feet and their horrible misdirected toes. (Hammer Toe! Da-du-duh-duh. Da-duh. Da-duh. Can't touch this!!) They let me run all over the place and they keep me healthy. I am completely off high heels and am probably going to be Birkenstocks for the rest of my life, but I CAN and hopefully WILL ALWAYS run. So phhhht on my ugly ass feet.
I've got a boot to wear for a couple of weeks and some strong anti-inflammatory meds and then I'm good to go. Just don't look below my knees and you won't be scarred for life.
I'm hoping the kids (right now, actually, just Bridget) get their lungs back in order. After the surprise RSV trip-to-the-hospital for 5 days, I expect the unexpected at the doctors office. Of course, the unexpected rarely happens, so it is unlikely for us to get to the hospital again (YAY!). Nonetheless, I still carry that around inside me when they get sick. I know that like NICU, it will recede. But it still surprises me when that anxiety over their health and going to the hospital pops up.
Off to snuggle with my squirrel since we both sleep better cuddling each other.
I mean Bridget, not Dave. ;-) He's my smoochie muffin, not my squirrel.