Friday, March 7, 2008
After her healthiest winter yet, Adinah is once again besieged by The Cough. She hacks and gasps, her eyes turn red, and a tear or two rolls down her face. She draws my attention to this last detail in particular: "Papa, look!"
The only thing we can do is give her puffs of the asthma medicines Flixotide and Sultanol. Usually, she's still miserable for two nights. This week she's been miserable for four. Though not miserable for the whole time--Deanie is always hopping, skipping and/or singing around the place, even when the Cough is sitting on top of her like a high-school wrestler. She puts on a brave face.
We've never seen a doctor who's been able to give us much comfort about it, let alone a cure. They say that kids this age may be asthmatic, but then grow out of it, and never actually develop asthma proper. Great, fine, okay, but isn't there something we can do now for gawd's sake? Apparently not.
So I've been sleeping on the floor next to her bed for most of the week. Waking up at midnight or 4 a.m. to give her more inhalants. Fetching her a glass of water or a roll of toilet paper, so she can wipe her nose. I sort of enjoy this guard dog duty. But I'm pretty wasted after a week of it.
Today she turned a corner, and tonight I told Adinah we could sleep with Anette and V. again. "YAY!" You'd think I'd given her a refill of her Spongebob Squarepants Pez.
I might make a joke or two about it, but it's nice to be able to comfort a kid. Actually, it's awesome.