Today is looking good– I don't want to jinx it, but it seems likely that we will get through the day, completely, without needing any medical intervention. Fingers crossed! By contrast, I had to take Elias to the doctor on Wednesday due to sudden-onset pink eye and, as it turned out, a horrible ear infection in his left ear. Miserable!!
He seemed a little off his game in the morning, but basically all right. A little crud in his eye, but not all that noticeable. After two hours of struggle I got the boys to go with me to the Wellness Center so I could exercise. (They have all sorts of wonderful climbing things, toys, TVs, video games, etc., but Isaac still calls it "the Dullness Center" and complains bitterly about being dragged there… but can I ever have any moment of taking care of myself?? Horrible child! Arg!) but when I picked Elias up from babysitting, he was sound asleep on the couch (despite an environment that was far from quiet) and his left eye was sealed shut entirely with green crust. Oh boy.
So afternoon plans canceled, a doctor's appt hastily scheduled. Elias screamed or slept, alternately, until the appt., and then also during it. Much hassle getting the meds and then finally home around dinner time. I've learned that the basic technique that works best for giving medicine to cats– roll them tightly in a towel with only the head showing– works great for administering eye drops to toddlers. Fun, fun, fun. Twice a day for the next week! Luckily his antibiotic liquid is apparently delicious.
Meanwhile, my persistent hacking and shortness of breath started to really, really become intolerable. I vowed on Wednesday night that no matter how I felt on Thursday morning I would try to get medical attention myself. This is a little bit of a challenge because I haven't established contact with any doctor since we moved down here, and so had to do the initial get-to-know-you stuff under duress. But I had a place that was recommended to me and managed to get an appt there on short notice. The only catch being that I had to bring my entourage. I went prepared with brand new, totally exciting, wonderful activity books to entertain them during any endless wait this might entail, but they only lasted for about three seconds before Elias wanted Isaac's and a fight broke out. So while I worked my way through a stack of forms about my entire medical history and family history, Elias stood by my knee screaming his lungs out.
When we finally got into the little room, the boys busied themselves getting into mayhem as rapidly as possible. Isaac got himself tangled up in a lamp cord and tripped, knocking over a big lamp. Once that was straightened out, he began inflating the blood pressure thing, repeatedly and to dangerous levels, while Elias busied himself on the floor disassembling a model of vertebrae. Meanwhile I got thoroughly questioned and examined. My fear was that my lungs were feeling a little better all the sudden and I wasn't coughing– I worried that she would think I was crazy or a hypochondriac (a reason I haven't been any doctor in more than two years). But indeed the doctor, who had an ornate Italian name but no accent, proved to be my lost soul mate. She hates antibiotic abuse as much as I do! So after listening to my chest, which apparently sounded pretty lousy nonetheless, she prescribed my very own albuterol inhaler, just like Isaac's. Her concept is that if we get my lungs open and functioning, I will be able to get the gunk out and fight off the crud myself. She wrote me a prescription for antibiotics, but said to try not to go there. So too my fear of getting pink eye (well founded, due to how much slime got on me in recently days)– she said to put warm compresses on my eyes such that I can avoid getting it, but wrote a prescription for the drops just in case.
After an afternoon full of hassles and schlepping around, I did get my hands on the inhaler and inhaled! Wow. Good stuff. I'm a convert. And just the sheer joy of deep breathing makes me realize just how constricted my airways have been in recent weeks. It does make my heart beat like a little jack rabbit, but I'll take it. I went to yoga this morning and got through sans repulsive coughing attack — a huge improvement.
The old guy next to me in yoga kept annoying me by exhaling with the force and volume of a humpback whale. Which is to say, I'm very happy to be breathing again, but all things in moderation.