Jack the Wheezy

Instead of taking a nap today, Jack and I took a walk up to the sheep pastures by our house.

Jack has been sick with a very mysterious, very constant cough for two months. He coughs so hard that he throws up, which has made the recent past extremely cabin fevery for us; I'm not going to take him out into the world when he could throw up at any second in a store or on a kid at the park! Jack has been quite valiant, still playing and having a good time in spite of this malady. I feel that I have also been doing well taking care of him, though I have missed out on seeing some cute newborn babies that I could infect with this mysterious disease.

We have made several doctor's visits to figure out this cough. The remedies we've received include Zyrtec for allergies, a nebulizer for asthma, and a liquid steroid as the "Pleeeeeease Just Stop Coughing" last resort. The steroid was prescribed today at the urgent care, and we are hoping that it has some effect on the cough. We know it does have some effect on his sleeping, however, because steroids for children as young as Jack make for some jittery times.

So, instead of taking a nap today, Jack and I went on a walk to the sheep pastures by our house. We live down the hill from a pasture that houses scads of sheep (and their lambs, since it's springtime!), a few horses, and a llama who wouldn't judge if Jack barfed all over after a coughing spree. I enjoyed the exercise, and Jack enjoyed trying to stick his arm through the fence to touch them. We even got our first sunburn of the Spring.

While Jack inspected the bugs on the sidewalk and chased after the birds building a nest in the tree, I had a strange memory come to mind. When I was in eighth grade, I took an advanced Algebra course with one of my all-time favorite teachers, Mr. Simpson. He was a former military man with an extremely wry sense of humor and a John Wayne gait with a geeky twist. In this class, there were several peers of mine that I wanted desperately to impress, including the then-man of my dreams. It seemed to me that during every test we took, I choked on my own spit and ended up having to stifle an extremely violent coughing fit. When the day of each chapter test approached, I would dread the upcoming embarrassment more than the testing of my Algebra knowledge. I doubt anyone in the class would remember that particular oddity, but being a teenager is so difficult and scarring that I know I will never forget it.

However, being a toddler is easy. If you cough or sneeze or barf, there is typically an adult around who is responsible for you and will therefore take it upon themselves to remedy your situation. If I had been a toddler taking Algebra, I would have coughed as loud as I had to and pinned it on my parents, who would have shrugged as if to say, "Hey, a girl's gotta cough, right?" I am glad my parents were smart enough, though, to not make me take Algebra as a two-year-old. And I am glad that I can be there for my son when he coughs, so he can feel comfortable coughing when he feels the need.

Instead of taking a nap today, Jack and I went on a walk to the sheep pastures by our house. It made for a really nice afternoon.