I thought Little Man had simply awoken early coughing. No biggie- we all have The Cold That Never Ends. So I drifted back to sleep when the coughing calmed down and all was quiet over his baby monitor.
This was a mistake.
As I went in to get him at a more reasonable hour I was met in the hazy darkness by a little voice shouting "mess!" Closer inspection revealed vomit. All over the crib sheets, blankets, plush broccoli, feetie pajamas, and the curly hair of one very sick little boy.
At this point I became aware that my day was not going to go as planned.
Tuckered out after a rather long doctor's visit... and all the puking
The doctor found a double ear infection, a gunky cough, and very sore throat on the little guy. So proper meds were prescribed and we were sent off on our way... to buy Pedialyte and Happy Meals. (one for hydration, the other is bribery for two big sisters being good at little brother's doctor appt)
She (the lovely doctor) also noted that this all probably started as a cold that went wrong, you know, the one from FEBRUARY. On top of that she added that the vomiting and ---ahem-- diarrhea he'd been having (I thought I was just giving him too many grapes!) is probably a new, totally separate virus she's seen going around lately.
Oh, joy.
More sickness.
Great.
This all highlighted something that has been on my mind a lot lately. I've been volunteering with Family Search indexing things like Census and Birth/Death records. (If you want to do it, go here for more info) It has become quite a tool of relaxation for me, as well as helping out a cause I find quite fascinating.
Anyway, I've just recently started indexing the Texas death records from the 1930's and 50's. And have I found a new appreciation for technology (yay, typewriters! People's handwriting is crap on important documents before the advent of typewriters- readable typewriters!) as well as the medical advances that I oftentimes take for granted.
For example: every set of twins I've come across, save one, has not survived. How lucky I am for all the medical professionals that helped a very pregnant me along the way with my twins. The girls had so many advantages and opportunities to thrive. Had they been born during the 30's? Oh, the thought of it is just too terrible to even ponder.
I stop and pause at each one of these death certificates of little ones. Sometimes I even cry a little bit for them, and for their parents. I always look at the doctor's notes on these ones, most of them read "pneumonia," "meningitis," "tuberculosis," etc.
As I give Little Man his twice-daily antibiotic, I say a little prayer of thanks.
Not only that, but I see death certificates for things like "fallen off ladder." This is a very different landscape than I have ever been accustomed to. I've also seen too many toddlers, children Little Man's age, who perish due to burns from boiling water and unsafe living conditions.
It all just makes me thankful. So very thankful.
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