Sick on Your Birthday

That's the worst. No one wants to be sick on their birthday!

Molly is ten months old today - 5/6 of a year - and she has stinking pneumonia

The pediatrician gave her super-powered antibiotics, and the cardiologist ok'd a decongestant, so we're hoping she kicks it quickly. I think you've all been around long enough to know what happens if she doesn't; and around long enough to know I won't say it out loud.

She is generally uncomfortable and has a lot of junk in her chest; we can hear it when she breathes. Pardon the graphic descriptor, but we're all friends here: since she can't cough the phlegm out like an adult, it gets stuck in there making it difficult to breathe. The only way to get it out is to spit it up after a feed, as she does every now and again (like just two minutes ago while I was typing this), which is disgusting to us but apparently a relief for her. She shows brief spurts of happy, smiling Molly - usually following one of these episodes (although that doesn't seem to be the case right now).

Her vitals have remained fairly stable. Since we now have a mini-medical facility set up in her nursery, we can monitor these things without going to the doctor (or that other place). So let's keep our fingers crossed.

In other news, the Triathletes for Trisomy 18 program continues to see steady contributions from far and wide. The current total is 93 donors and $17,675. Unbelievable. And if I haven't said it already, we can't thank you all enough.

Finally, your humble scribe is feeling philosophical again. I float this to you as a warning more than anything else: Either the next post will be really long and convoluted, or the next three to four will be inter-related. I've got some thoughts to put in order, but I've been asking myself some questions lately and what would be the point of this space if I didn't attempt to articulate them?