Monday, February 14, 2011

Croup is French for Poop (or crap, if you're an adult)

Dear Ian,
Poor Monkey. You aren't feeling well at all, and because you dont feel well, I feel bad that there isn't much that I can do to make it go away. This illness started to rear it's icky head on Friday. You had a bit of a runny nose, but I didn't think it was that big of a deal. 'Allergies, maybe, or it could be your eye teeth coming in,' I thought. Daddy and I had planned a date night for Saturday night, and you were going to play with Grandma and Papa Davis and Payton on the farm. It was just a runny nose... I guess I should have clued in though, when you were doing this quite a bit on Saturday morning:

Anyhoo... Off you went Saturday afternoon for a fun time of feeding cows, chasing the dogs and feeding the chickens with your grandparents and cousin. You were happy as could be. I called to check on you that night, and Grandma said you were a little stuffy, but that you were fine, so Daddy and I carried on with our night (which, I might add consisted of Chinese take-out and cartoons and going to bed at 9:45). The next day, though, when I called, Grandma said that you didn't sleep well at all because of coughing and stuffiness. Oh no. :( We went to get you, and you fell asleep on the way home; that's something you haven't done in forever. You even stayed asleep when I changed you into your jammies and got you into bed.
All seemed ok until about 10:20pm. You started coughing and making the most awful barking sound. There was even a little wheezing. You were crying and upset and not able to catch your breath, and I decided that something had to be done. I called the nurse at 11pm, and she recommended we head off to the Emergency Room for urgent care. Turns out you have Croup, which is an icky breathing illness, but not terribly serious. Whew. You had about seven nurses checking you out a different times, which you weren't thrilled about, but every time they left your room, you would wave and blow them kisses. This little action is what sparked this whole blog post. Your sweet little heart, despite the fact that you had a fever, snot running all over and crud in your chest, and despite the fact that you wanted NOTHING to do with being poked and prodded by medical staff, still shined through. I think you left the TMH Emergency Room with about five new "girlfriends." Those nurses loved you.

I hope that sweetness and gentle spirit that you have now stays with you forever. Even as sick as you were, and as tired and upset as you were, you still had it in you to smile at and give love to the people around you. And by the time we left, it was technically Valentine's Day (we were there from 11:30pm to 2:00am), and you were spreading the love.

So thank you little boy. Thank you for reminding me, in your sweet little way, that even during miserable times, there's always time for love and sweetness for others. Here's a picture of you in your Valentine's Day shirt and with your little stuffed valentine from your Daddy and me. You're my sweet little Valentine.

I love you so much,

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