I spent Sunday morning with Miss A at our pediatrician’s office. It’s not exactly the way I wanted to spend a weekend morning, especially since Miss C and the hubby were heading to the pool that afternoon, but she had been coughing since Friday night and had a horrible wheezing episode late Saturday and I wondered off and on Saturday night if I should have taken her to the doctor. The pediatrician thought she heard crackling in Miss A’s lungs and was worried about walking pneumonia. She also questioned why we didn’t get a nebulizer to bring home in May when Miss A was sick with the same symptoms and responded well to an in office breathing treatment, but the nurse at that time had said if we had another similar episode we would get a machine to bring home. When we were on vacation in Florida in June she had a similar episode, but she kicked it. Miss A has a recheck on Wednesday and I’m hoping and praying this isn’t leading to a diagnosis of something like asthma. This seems to have started in December, when she had pneumonia. I keep reminding myself it could be something much worse, and I am all the more thankful for the girls’ health.
We are now the proud owners of a nebulizer duck. Miss A was not too happy about her breathing treatment after waiting two hours at the doctor’s office and trust me, I used every trick in the mama book of distractions to entice her to sit still in my lap, including letting her “chew” gum (translation, eat it.) But here at home the treatments have gone well and she and the hubby have been bonding over Sponge Bob while she sits in his lap and Miss C is fascinated with the new medical contraption.
The nurse called the steam magic clouds, but I, in my infinite wisdom have called it “magic smoke” more than once.
Seeing as Miss C has just one more week until kindergarten starts and she repeats everything she hears, I’m bracing myself for the moment she tells her teacher about our “magic smoke” at home and I have to explain that we’re not potheads.