This isn’t the Friday night I expected to have. It is Maxi Mister’s birthday and I was expecting to be sat reminiscing with hubby, celebrating the wonderful little boy we have been blessed with.
We aren’t doing that. We are not even in the same town/village, let alone the same building or room. I am sat on the sofa alone. Maxi Mister is fast asleep upstairs. Hubby is with Mini Mister at the ‘local’ paediatric A&E. They have been there for 3 hours nearly. I wish I knew what was happening.
Mini seemed to have come down with a cold, coupled with teething, and has had a temperature on and off since Tuesday. He coughs a lot, and has a sore throat – at least, I am assuming so because he cries when he is trying to eat or even have his milk. He has been wheezy too, but we weren’t sure if it was from his chest or nose.
Thankfully I managed to get him a late appointment with the GP this evening. He gave Mini a nebulizer, but there was little improvement, so he said we should take him to A&E to get checked out. He thinks it is a viral chest infection, but he is too wheezy. As it is the weekend, he didn’t want it left, as small children can go downhill very quickly. Mini is obviously not the only child being sent in because of the weekend, as A&E is heaving.
So on Friday Night, here I sit, waiting for the time Maxi was born, waiting to celebrate, waiting to talk to hubby, waiting to find out what is wrong with Mini, waiting for him to come home.