The boy is poorly again!
This time he's full of cold, runny nose and a nasty hacking cough. Another trip to the doctors!
The Doc wasn't sure. Well to be fair it wasn't a Doctor it was a Nurse Practitioner. So the Nurse Practitioner wasn't sure!
She checked ears, nose, throat and chest. The boy was brave. She scratched her head! Never a sign that fills you with a lot of confidence!
"It could be viral bronchitis. I'll prescribe some Amoxicillin. Oh but then he does sound wheezy too."
Hubby has mild asthma so to play it safe she also gave us an asthma puffer and tube with a rubber mask on (not as scary as it sounds) to administer the puffs.
"Keep giving him Calpol and the antibiotics but if his breathing gets worse and the puffer doesn't help then phone 999!"
At this point my face must have set into shock or gone strange or my eyes widened - something like that as she said:
"Don't look at me like that Mummy. Try not to worry."
Yeah, that's what I'll do. I'll try not to worry. You don't really know what it is so you've thrown the kitchen sink and Uncle Tom Cobbly and all at it and then said if all else fails call an ambulance.
And I only thought he had a cold!!!!
So now he's not really eating, having reasonable naps (spoke too soon I can hear him waking up and it's only been 30 minutes) playing and laughing but coughing like an old man on 40 Woodbines a day.
He's gone off having his Calpol or medicine on a spoon and when this morning, at what I am laughingly calling breakfast at the moment, I tried a syringe he clamped his mouth shut and the viscose yellow goo shot out all over my pyjamas! Not his, just mine!
And the puffer.?
Well as Daddy has experience, Daddy does the puffer. Oh the puffer is a game. He loves the puffer. He sits nicely and calmly for Daddy and the puffer!
God bless the puffer hey!