Poor little Logan is sick, sick, sick. Luke and I had a terrible virus about 2 weeks ago and we thought that Logan had escaped it. However...it caught up to him yesterday morning. It started with just a slight cough and then the wheezing started. I stayed up with him most of the night praying he could take his next breath. Then early this morning it became much worse. Nate actually jumped out of bed and woke Luke up and they got dressed. We were heading for the ER. But then a miracle happened...he asked me to start singing "Jesus Loves Me" (his favorite beditme song that we MUST sing each night) and he was able to calm himself down enough to get at least short breaths in. He finally agreed to take his "smoke medicine" as he calls it (aka Albuterol breathing treatment) and his respiratory and heart rate starting coming down.I just hate that viruses go straight to his chest. I feel so bad when he's crying, gasping for air and telling me he's going to throw up. (Mucous...fun!) The doctor's office FINALLY called me back this morning (after a not-so-patient sounding mother left yet another message!) And would you know that the nurse said it wasn't neccessary to see him just yet since the virus just started! Unless, of course I felt that it was an emergency in which case I was to go to the ER. What? What is with these "professionals" out here!? Am I just used to being spoiled by our outstanding doctors we had in CA? Am I just one of "those" moms that have entitlement issues? I keep getting the feeling that my expectations are too high. But is that really so bad? Aren't I suppose to expect the best care when it comes to my children? Right now he's comfortable (wheezing and all) sitting on the couch watching Backyardigans. I dread tonight.
