On Friday morning, I took Mia to the pediatrician for a follow-up on a minor issue she has and, since she had started in with a touch of a runny nose and a mild cough on Thursday and since my poor three-month-old niece had been diagnosed with RSV on Thursday, I had the (non-hotty, although I am sure she is quite attractive, if you go that way) pediatrician take a listen to her lungs. She was fine, no problem at all, in perfectly great shape. Which is why I was more than a little surprised to be rushing her to the emergency room less than seven hours later.
Her oxygen levels were low and not responding to the usual treatments, her chest x-ray was questionable, and the ER doc told me we were possibly looking at another bout with pneumonia. Mia scored herself another hospital slumber party on Friday night, complete with full-time oxygen and regular visits from the respiratory therapist, but come morning she was considerably improved and we would have been out of there with the sunrise had we not had to wait until afternoon for the pediatrician to come spring us.
Mia is doing great, aside from the side-effects of her continuing medications. If you've never seen a four-year-old in full 'roid-rage, you are missing out. She was brave and calm and cooperative the entire time at the hospital, mostly because she was proud of herself for thinking to pack extra socks.
Mia giggled for twenty minutes last night when I told her that she was my hero, but it is the absolute truth.