There are snowflakes in the air, outside.
There is a slight breeze, so from where I sit, it’s hard to tell whether the flakes are falling or whether they are drifting back up.
My son is sick, today. My daycare provider called me at my office yesterday and said that he had been coughing all day – he had been coughing at night, but not during the day at all before then. He was up all night last night, coughing and coughing. Today, he has a fever, so I’m keeping him home. We have an appointment at the pediatrician this afternoon.
I still feel guilty about not being at work. Why is that? I should be able to relax on days off, but I never can. I guess.
He is awake, now. Definitely not himself. His eyes are droopy and his cheeks are unusually pink. The cough is still bad. Poor little guy.
The last time he had a cold like this, we brought him to the pediatrician and were told to use a humidifier and ride things out. But, also, that his lungs were seizing up and that he possibly has asthma. (Which, considering he already has a peanut allergy, doesn’t surprise me too much. Allergies and asthma frequently occur together.)
There are more flakes, outside. At least I won’t need to worry about traffic when we go out. I have a conference call to call in for at eleven. I wish now that I wouldn’t have said I would be on it. It’s only an hour and I don’t have that much to say on it. But, I said I would, so I will. I just wish I hadn’t.
I told him that I would take him to the doctor later. He looked at me and said “No,” and asked for tea and milk. He hasn’t drank it, yet. He doesn’t like going to the doctor – doctors mean shots or being held down. Neither of which he likes very much. So that could be interesting.