Sunday, March 25, 2012


The flu hit us.  Every single one of us.  And that, unfortunately, included 'Mister'.  It started with 'The Boy' who got it, I'm sure, from school.  He then passed it onto 'Munchkin'  who just couldn't keep her hands off of that new baby of hers.  She passed it on to meand 'The Hubs', as well.

On Sunday morning, I woke up feeling a bit under the weather and 'Mister' began the day with a bit of a runny nose and a dry cough.  As the day went on, I felt worse and worse and in the late afternoon, 'Mister' spiked a fever.  I called Dr H and she asked for us to come into the office first thing in the morning.

It was a rough night and we were up most of it trying to comfort 'Mister'.  The next day we were in the Dr's office bright and early and he was so much worse; struggling to breathe, incredibly congested, fevers of 100.2.  Dr H walked in, took one look at him and said, "oh, no...this is a very sick baby".  My heart sunk and I began to silently pray that he would be ok and we would be able to go home.  They gave him an antibiotic injection and a breathing treatment and sent us off with a slew of orders.

We spent our day in the medical offices.  He had chest xrays and blood drawn.  My mommy heartstrings were tugged on real good and I was so sick myself, all I wanted to do was go to bed.

I filled a prescription for an inhaler and we went home to wait for results.  I knew that it was possible that we would get a phone call and that we could be told to go to the children's hospital.  But we didn't.  We got a call saying that his xray was normal.  Thank you, God.

That night was better and the next day, we were at the pediatrician's again for another antibiotic injection.  We also had to go back to the lab to have his blood redrawn because the previous draw had coagulated.  Watching my three week old little boy get poked for the second day in a row was heartbreaking.

He slowly began to recover.  For the third morning in a row, we were into see Dr. H.  He had a final antibiotic injection, breathing treatment and a culture for whooping cough.  Dr H was confident that he was on the mend and told us to follow up in a week.

Over the next few days, I began to feel better and 'Mister' was getting better, too.  All of his lab work and cultures came back normal and we breathed a sigh of relief.  It took him several weeks to fully recover and he still has an occasional dry cough.  I have never seen any of my babies so sick.  It was truly the most miserable week and I hope we never have to go through anything like that again.

 Sick 'Mister'.

 Getting snuggles from Daddy.

Waiting for his shot at the peditricians.

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