Two nights ago I was telling Jason how grateful I was that Bella has been doing so well lately. It's almost like having a normal life. I love it! I don't constantly worry about her. Who would have thought we would ever be to this point, I said.
I guess I just needed a little reminder.
She's been junky for about a month, but so has everyone. It's Fall in Houston. Everyone has the sniffles. But I would check her sats and she was never bad, a little lower than normal, but that is to be expected.
She got a new bug last week. It kept us home from Church and Thanksgiving, but it was alright, nothing major.
And then last night, her body said enough of this. Last night as I watched her sleeping, retracting, pulling, breathing fast, her sats falling, Jason and I holding her down to tape the nasal cannula to her face, turning up the oxygen again and again, I was reminded why I haven't cleared out her medical supplies yet.
She is negative for RSV and both flus. She just has the crude and it is wreaking havoc with her little body. It has progressed to an infiltration in her lower right lobe.
Larger concentrator is on it's way. Oxygen at three liters, breathing treatments, steroids, strong antibiotics. And she fights to breathe.
I was reminded why I love my pediatrician. After examining her, she turned to me and asked, "Are you OK managing this at home?" We talked about at what point she needs to be downtown. I am grateful we have so much equipment. Without it we wouldn't have a choice. We would be in house for days.
I'm hoping she can turn this around quickly. I HATE seeing her suffer. I hate being the bad guy to hold her down for tests. My heart breaks as she turns to me for comfort. I will do all I can baby girl to help you get well.