Last Sunday was the beginning of it all. Ryan woke up with a fever and a cough. Jack had been sniffling and raspy sounding for a week. I sent Phil off to church while I stayed home to care for the boys. By 10 o'clock, Ryan was quiet and still snuggling with me on the couch and his cough was getting worse. Fearing
a trip to the ER like last year, as soon as Jack woke up from his nap, I took the boys to the pedi-center. I gave my $10 co-pay for each and had the doctor check them both out. Jack was given a clean bill of health because he was teething, but Ryan was diagnosed with croup and an ear infection. He was given meds for his cough and infection. I texted Phil to let him know what was going on. He asked me to pick up some Airborne when I picked up Ryan's meds. I scoffed at him and retorted that croup was a childhood illness and that we wouldn't need it.
Ryan's fever was gone through the next day and Jack seemed no worse for the wear and I was feeling better about things. Tuesday, Ryan's fever came back and I started to worry. Phil and my dad took turns caring for Ryan on Wednesday while I went to work. My voice seemed a little raspy that day, but I thought it was a change in the weather, allergies, or whatever else living in Bakersfield can throw at you. Thursday, the raspy-ness turned into a cough and by Thursday afternoon, I was feverish and exhausted and wondered if I would get my boys home from their respective daycares without falling asleep in the car. I got home and flopped on the couch while Ryan tried to convince me to get up and play. Jack was still wheezy and snotty, but happy. Ryan was doing better and had been fever free that day, although the cough was still nagging. After being at home alone with the boys for about 20 minutes and feeling totally vulnerable and unable to do anything, I pathetically called Phil and asked him to come home and help with the boys. I had thrown in the towel. In my groggy state, Phil asked me to go to the doctor the next day. I told him it was viral and tried to ignore him since I hate going to the doctor.
Friday, I barely left the couch and I don't really remember anything except feeling awful. I still refused to go to the doctor because it was "just viral." What could the doctors do anyway? Phil had taken the boys to daycare so I could get some rest and he could go to work. About 1pm, Jack's daycare provider called to tell us he had pink eye. What did we do to deserve that little plague? I thought to myself. I told Phil that I would go get Jack. He looked at me and said, "no." He would be getting Jack and taking him to the doctor. Phil came home with eye drops and a nebulizer for Jack and Jack's bronchiolitis. Ummm, so that explains Jack's ever diminishing appetite. Doctor did say that he was a "happy little wheezer" and I would have to agree with that statement. My mom called later to check on us and volunteered to get Ryan and keep him for the night which I happily and deliriously agreed to.
Saturday morning, I woke up, trying to hack up a lung and headed straight to urgent care. I knew it was bad when the receptionist and nurses looked pitifully upon me while squirting hand sanitizer on their hands as I passed by. A chest x-ray, an antibiotic shot, and a breathing treatment later, I was diagnosed with pneumonia and sent home with antibiotics and some prednisone. I was told to return on Monday and the doctor would then discuss with me when I could return to normalcy.
Jack's condition has been steadily improving and he seems great today. Ryan however, started his fever last night. again. Phil took him back to the pedi-center and he was given a stronger antibiotic as he has not kicked the croup or ear infection. He slept til 9:15 this morning and spent his waking hours snuggled with me on the couch all day. My mom and Phil took turns caring for us today. I went back to urgent care, per doctors orders, and was told, although I am improving, I was not to go back to work and should come back Wednesday to be checked out again. I was also warned I may have to stay home all week. At lunch Phil came home and wasn't feeling up to par. I sent him to urgent care after he was told he couldn't get in with our doctor til tomorrow. He came home with a diagnosis of the earliest stages of pneumonia and a z-pack. He was not told to return later and chances are he will be on the up and up in days.
Meanwhile there is a stack of gorgeous fabric waiting in my lovely new/old sewing room and a project that I have designed, yet all I can do without hacking up my lungs, is sit on the couch and watch mindless TV shows. And worry about Ryan. And hope that Jack stays well. And pray that Phil really does get better as quickly as the doctor seemed to think that he would. I want this plague to pass our house already. Say a pray for our sad little pathetic bunch.
