Not Again

It's no secret that my son has had a difficult medical history for his three young years. I've mentioned it here.

But he's been off of his medication for 18 months.

Last year, we made it through cold and flu season with only a runny nose and a fever.

So I didn't think much of it when he developed a cough last week.

When his older sister developed a cough I figured that they might be sharing a cold.

But when the baby developed a cough, I rushed all three kids to the doctor.

Why? Why rush three kids to the doctor when I knew they had colds and I knew that the doctor was going to send us home with a "wait-it-out-call-us-if-it-gets-worse" advice?

Mostly because I remember what happened to Boyo and I did not want to take any chances that the baby would get RSV, pneumonia, and be in the hospital.

Although there was a small part of me that hoped that the doctor would take sympathy on me and the fact that I had three sick kids and would prescribe me a nanny. Or tell my husband he had to stay home from work and help. No such luck.

I'm so thankful we went to the doctor though, because I was wrong.

Baby Girlie will be fine, as long as I keep breast feeding her.

Girlie was getting better.

Boyo?

RSV, bronchitis, and possible pneumonia. The doctor couldn't make up her mind. A chest xray would have given us a better idea, but I wasn't putting Boyo through that, not when the treatment for one was antibiotics and the treatment for the other was breathing treatments. I convinced the doctor to write a prescription for both. (Convincing the insurance company, however, took some doing...)

So for the past week, I've been home with two and a half sick kids.

I never realized how small my house was until I couldn't take the kids to the park or school.