No. We didn't get a seal. It was just Heath. Coughing. Like a seal. The lovely sound of Croup. Yesterday morning it was mild, as was his fever. This morning, not so much. 104 and an immediate rush to sit in the bathroom, door closed, hot shower on. He was pretty much curled up in a ball with Puppy on our bed all day. A rare sight. I should've taken a picture.
Tomorrow will be better. It has to be. We are scheduled to be at the hospital at 6am for Stella's CT Scan and Ultrasound. I keep avoiding the subject on here, because it seems so personal and scary, which seems overly vulnerable, and therefore, unblogworthy. But I keep considering the fact that I do this for memory keeping and writing practice, and I also figure that there are others who might read this and relate to the ups and downs of parenting. This has been a definite down.
They will be putting her to sleep. They will stick a needle into the node that is growing larger and redder and more like its own entity by the day and find out exactly what lurks beneath the ominous lump. They will do the same thing to the one beside it who has decided to follow in the footsteps of his neighbor. Since Sunday she has had 4 visits to more than one doctor, 2 ultrasounds, 1 chest x-ray, multiple blood tests, 9 doses of the most wretched antibiotic I have ever leaned my nose into. And 17 lollipops. She does not let anyone forget the lollipops.
And she keeps smiling her huge, toothy, beautiful, genuine, uncomplicated, unsullied, courageous, bright smile. She's amazing. Totally and completely amazing.
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