recipe for hope

I think I am finally ready to blog about my year of a week. Sometimes, I think I have to get through that one really good cry to find the hope in the awful, and this week it took longer than usual to come.

Cooper started coughing last Saturday afternoon. When I say "started" I mean a cold cough started. Cooper has had a chronic cough his entire life. Sunday night the 102.6 fever reared its ugly head. After a day in the Get Well Place at school (so thankful for our amazing nurses) his fever was still coming and going. By Monday night, Cooper was more a zombie than a toddler and that is saying a lot.

Tuesday morning, I took Cooper to the doctor. After a strep test, an ear, nose and throat exam, a little bit of listening to Coop's lungs, we were sent on our with with a "It's a virus, lots of rest and fluids, come back if the fever doesn't go away in 24 hours" You know how awesome that is to hear. So glad, I just wasted a co-pay for you to tell me, there is nothing anyone can do.

Well, the fever continued, barely controlled by motrin. By Wednesday, Cooper had spent more time in my arms than anywhere else and even lost his breath trying to pull himself on the couch. At 7:00pm, I called the doctor to see if he should be seen. They asked how fast we could get there. (We learned in about 7 minutes!)

We were eventually sent to the ER at St. Mary's Hospital for dehydration, labored breathing, pulsox reading of 88 and the fact that pediatrician couldn't hear anything in his right lung and his left sounded very "course" as they call it. We ended up having the same ER pediatrician we had back during Cooper's first ER visit (he even recognized us!) and after a chest X-Ray, the diagnosis was pneumonia. We were admitted to the PICU because the Peds floor was full. It was a long 24 hours of barely any sleep, lots of Cooper crying, coughing and even a little lot of blood from where Coop ripped out his IV. But we made it. After a bag of fluids and 2 doses of amoxicillin, Coop seemed to be feeling better.

This hospital stay was definitely different than the one before. We have more experience behind us, more tests and more doctors. We have more information on what is going on with Coop now than we did before. We didn't know what Cooper's "baseline" was before. This time we did. It made watching him lay around for 14 hours straight that much more difficult. He also has a vocabulary and an awareness that wasn't present before. He sat on the floor crying and saying "Go, Mommy Please" on repeat and each time I told him we couldn't leave the room, I would want to scream. He was being so sweet, asking so nicely and still the answer was no. In fact, Grandad had to wear gloves and a yellow apron just to come visit. I had to wear a hospital gown the whole time I was in the room. It was awful. 

Thankfully, we had great nurses. They were sweet and caring and patient and kind. Thankfully, we were only there for 24 hours. And thankfully, we weren't going to miss our pulmonologist appointment that we had been waiting for, for SIX WEEKS! In fact, our doctor's CPNP stopped by to check on Coop, even though we weren't even officially their patient yet.

So I guess know there is always a silver lining, always something to give us a little hope. Today, I can safely say, Coop is 99% back to himself. This time, I think I had to get to this point in Coop's "recovery" for me to cry it out and let it all go. I had awful nightmares last night and woke up on the wrong side of the bed, grumpy and sad. Today was supposed to be Cooper's 2nd birthday party, the 2nd of TWO we have had to cancel. I wanted to be celebrating Cooper's life not worried about it but waking up to Cooper being himself helped me finally relax a little, I was finally able to let go of the week. And letting go, lets God in and that is always the right recipe for hope.