RSV

Yesterday went went to the pediatrician for Adam's continued cough, cold, vomiting and fever, and as I was beginning to suspect, Adam was positive for Respiratory Syncytial Virus (RSV), which was also called Bronchiolitis on our pediatrician's RSV "Fact Sheet." His oxygen was low, she could hear crackling in his lungs, and they gave him a breathing treatment right on the spot.

If I thought breathing treatments were no fun on a 4 month old, I apparently didn't realize what a difference 5 months would make. I attempted to restrain a very opinionated almost 9 month old who some days I would swear is stronger than me (oddly it made me feel better when the doctor herself commented on how freaking strong the kid is. At least it's not just my absence at the gym lately) and he struggled and screamed and cried so much that he passed out in my lap before the treatment was over. I let him put his head down on my right shoulder, and he didn't even move when they came back in to listen to his chest.

The doctor wavered about giving him a steroid shot and ultimately decided to give us antibiotics (yes, more - he had JUST finished a three week dose a week earlier) and Xopenex for the breathing treatments. We had to buy a nebulizer ($30), but that isn't nearly as expensive as the medication itself. She also told us to schedule an appointment for first thing the next morning.

And I am so glad she did. This morning Adam was having very labored breathing, loud, chest-heaving, air sucking breathing... and coughs, and he kept yawning - I think in the attempt to get more oxygen. I gave him a breathing treatment right before we left for the appointment but it didn't do much good and I watched him in the rear-view mirror the entire way to the doctor's office, repeatedly reminding myself what a good thing it isthat the office is also located in the hospital. When I got to her office they saw us right away, and luckily his breathing had improved slightly. They gave him another breathing treatment, and he fussed a little but resigned himself to the fact that he really had no choice, I guess. They sent us home with stronger Xopenex and steroids, but were confident that he didn't need to be admitted to the hospital.

You know how it is when a couple things go wrong . . . (or in my case lately, a million things go wrong) . . . and it just seems like no matter what you do things just pile up on you to make it worse? After we got home, Adam went down for a nap and I collapsed in bed too. I fell asleep and when I got up actually had to wake him up 2 hours later to eat and get another breathing treatment.

So we did that. And he seemed like he was starting to feel a little bit better, so he played a little as long as it was within 2 feet of where I was.

If no one has told you before, antiobiotics can interact with the iron that they put in baby formula and make bright red dirty diapers. Blood is dark and turns black after awhile, but this red diaper is BRIGHT red and stays that way. It is scary looking, but it's not blood. We learned the hard way when they failed to tell us that a month or so ago and we had to take the embarrassing offending diaper up to the doctor's office. Well, this time they told me (um, a little late, I'm already a PRO at Red Diapers). So around 45 minutes after he had eaten he had a dirty diaper, a red dirty diaper, and not only did it not want to stay IN the diaper, it didn't want to stay confined to one area.

After changing his clothes, my clothes, the changing table cover, his socks, and scrubbing the carpet, I thought: What is going on with the universe lately?

There are many fun things going on this weekend and hopefully Shannon will get to sneak away to the Mavs game with Mike, but I think I'll be in this weekend, taking care of Adam, maybe cleaning the house, and attempting to recover from what is already one hellish year.

So, as Lisa put it so perfectly earlier today: "We'll hang out with life quits terrorizing you."

It has to stop eventually, right?

At least I have this cute little face with me - he's got a great attitude even when he feels like crap. Even the pediatrician called him "a little trooper."

Adam at church. In deep thought.

Hey, this guy looks just like me!

38 weeks old

38 weeks old

No, seriously. What are you doing?

Come closer, Eli... I swear I won't pet you too hard.

Caley's a good dog. She lets me climb her.