I spent most of last night listening to Sunny hack and cough and bark. She's had a mildish cough since the beginning of the week and it has been getting progressively worse, but I wasn't too worked up about it - I've got four kids. I can do croup. Last night was particularly bad, though, and she would get into coughing fits where she couldn't really catch her breath well between coughs. We steamed her up in the bathroom, but she started hacking again the minute we left the bathroom, so off we went to the pediatrician this morning.
"She's not just coughing, she's wheezing. Has she had a problem with wheezing or needed breathing treatments before?"
I started to say no, then nearly smacked myself. The pneumonia following the swine flu. Duh. Can you believe I had forgotten? We've been so healthy since then I plumb forgot just how bad it was.
Very, very, very bad.
Anyway, Sunny earned herself her very own inhaler and spacer, complete with teddy bear pictures on the sides.
And hopefully the presence of such items will make it so I can get some sleep tonight. I have something very important to do early tomorrow morning (and I'm rather nervous about it - not the race itself, but the getting up and getting my butt downtown at the crack of dawn all by myself part).
Trout will be attending patrol camp in a couple of weeks, and the parent information meeting was this week. Patrol Camp is put on by the county police, so I figured if she's going to go to a sleep-away camp, going with the cops can only be a good thing. At the meeting they introduced the key people who run the camp, among them a 36-year veteran crossing guard. Who happened to live in the house in front of which was my bus stop when I was a patrol 30 years ago. Her daughter was my sister's best friend for a number of years in elementary school. I approached her after the meeting and asked if she recognized me, and she said the face was familiar but she wasn't sure. I told her my name and she freaked out. She's going to keep an extra eye on Trout during the camp week, and I feel a mite less anxious about the whole thing knowing just how capable are the hands she'll be in. I had forgotten the role that wonderful woman played in my own patrol career, but again, life has a funny way of reminding us about things that are important, even when we get so busy with life that we forget.
Yesterday I was out of bread and granola and I've started making my own, so I figured if I was going to heat up the house baking on a ninety degree day, I might as well go for broke.
We joined a CSA a few weeks back, and so have found ourselves with more potatoes, lettuce, and strawberries than we know what to do with. We've eaten a lot, given some away, and I froze some of the berries for smoothies later, but I still had a ton of them left. So I taught myself how to make jam. No idea how it tastes yet, but since the only ingredients are sugar and strawberries, it can't be too bad. It's a rather hot business, my kids asked how I got my hair to go "all curly like that," but I only burned myself once though I probably moved far too slowly step to step. I'm sure I can go twice as fast next time. I'm looking forward to canning surplus tomatoes and beans later on this summer.
Any ideas on what to do with all this lettuce? I don't know how many more salads I can take without turning green.