We are doing well now that we are past the croup incident. Dana and I still wake up instantly every time we hear Dylan cough in the middle of the night. Dylan had his 6 month checkup and everything looks good. He is now in the 90th percentile in height (down from 99th) though I am putting the measurement under protest, as his legs were not fully stretched. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
Dana and I are in an extra good Christmas mood this year. We are making up for last year, when Dana was in her first trimester. I recall Dana not wanting to put a Christmas tree last year and I have made it a point to reminder her of that numerous times. We have pretty much all of our Christmas shopping done this year. I am not usually a power shopper and it may be just an excuse to get out of the house, but I have really been in a shopping mood recently. After the Christmas season, I will need to think of some other excuse (like the driving range.)
Dana has been on fire with cooking this Christmas season. She made double frosting for her sugar cookies (we always ran out of frosting in previous years) so we are now calling them frosting balls with a little sugar cookie under it.
This weekend and the past two weekends Dana and I have had social gatherings (yes, that’s 3 weeks in a row…a social hat trick.) I can actually bring something to the conversation when a co-worker asks on Monday what I did over the weekend. My weekend recaps are extremely boring compared to some of my younger colleagues who are fresh out of college. That is why they have dubbed me the “45 year old trapped in a 20 something year old body.” I wish I was making that up.
Everything else is going well. We will try to post something before Christmas. If not, Merry Christmas.
Friday, December 18, 2009
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Croup, There It Is
Last Thursday started out like every other Thursday night. We put Dylan to bed around 8:30, watched our NBC lineup (the only night we watch TV regularly) and went to bed around 10:00.
This evening, at 10:51, I was awakened by a horrific scream. This was a different scream from normal, which is the only reason I got out of bed to check on him. Being 6 months old and starting to become more agile, I figured he was caught on something in his crib or in a very awkward position. What I found was completely different.
Dylan was laying on his side and his face was red, so I rolled him on his back. Immediately, I could see that he was really struggling with his breathing. I picked him up and started to pat him on the back and looked to see if he was choking. He wasn’t. He was coughing a lot and was really gasping for breath as if he needed a drink of water. I asked Dana to wake up immediately and call 911. An ambulance was now on their way.
Meanwhile, I was holding on to Dylan for dear life. He had stopped crying, but was still struggling to get air. I tried to put him down on the bed while I put some pants on, but he would have none of it. I later questioned how I got my jeans on while holding him. I never did put on a shirt. I wondered to myself, as if I was a doctor, what could possibly make him breathe so hard when, just two hours ago, he was doing fine.
Shortly thereafter, the ambulance came. They checked him and suggested that we go to the Downtown ER, instead of the closer Baptist South Hospital, where Dylan was born. This definitely startled me and confirmed in my mind that there was a big problem on our hands. I hung on to him all the way to the ambulance, where I dropped him off. Dana took the ride with him and I followed in our car.
Remarkably, I was quite thorough with our packing. I was thinking that we may be there for a while, so I packed accordingly. When we go on trips, I never remember everything, even when we have days to plan. This time around, I was on my game, anticipating any and all needs that we may have in the next couple of days.
It was a long and lonely trip to the hospital. How was Dylan doing? For all I knew, he was in the ambulance fighting for his life. I prayed. A lot. I also cried. A lot. I thought about calling someone, but what would I tell them without freaking them out? Besides, it was past 11pm. If I am going to make a call at that time, I better have more details than what I knew.
When I arrived at the hospital, Dylan was getting some oxygen and was looking much better. My anxiety level dropped. The doctor figured out very quickly that Dylan had croup, or the croup, however you want to call it. He said that they would give him some medication and he would be much better in no time.
After the medication, Dylan started to breathe better. We stayed in the ER until about 3:30am. I stayed with Dylan in his room for the rest of the night. He still was struggling with his breathing for the rest of the night, but at least I knew what to do. Fortunately, it was a relatively cool night in Jacksonville, so taking him into the night air helped.
Total sleep for the night: 51 minutes.
Four days later and he is doing better. We are relieved.
So, all of that for…croup? I, personally, had never heard of it. Evidently, it’s quite common in young children. Due to our lack of knowledge, it was a more terrifying event than it needed to be. Welcome to parenthood. Like everything else with parenting, you just figure it out as you go.
This evening, at 10:51, I was awakened by a horrific scream. This was a different scream from normal, which is the only reason I got out of bed to check on him. Being 6 months old and starting to become more agile, I figured he was caught on something in his crib or in a very awkward position. What I found was completely different.
Dylan was laying on his side and his face was red, so I rolled him on his back. Immediately, I could see that he was really struggling with his breathing. I picked him up and started to pat him on the back and looked to see if he was choking. He wasn’t. He was coughing a lot and was really gasping for breath as if he needed a drink of water. I asked Dana to wake up immediately and call 911. An ambulance was now on their way.
Meanwhile, I was holding on to Dylan for dear life. He had stopped crying, but was still struggling to get air. I tried to put him down on the bed while I put some pants on, but he would have none of it. I later questioned how I got my jeans on while holding him. I never did put on a shirt. I wondered to myself, as if I was a doctor, what could possibly make him breathe so hard when, just two hours ago, he was doing fine.
Shortly thereafter, the ambulance came. They checked him and suggested that we go to the Downtown ER, instead of the closer Baptist South Hospital, where Dylan was born. This definitely startled me and confirmed in my mind that there was a big problem on our hands. I hung on to him all the way to the ambulance, where I dropped him off. Dana took the ride with him and I followed in our car.
Remarkably, I was quite thorough with our packing. I was thinking that we may be there for a while, so I packed accordingly. When we go on trips, I never remember everything, even when we have days to plan. This time around, I was on my game, anticipating any and all needs that we may have in the next couple of days.
It was a long and lonely trip to the hospital. How was Dylan doing? For all I knew, he was in the ambulance fighting for his life. I prayed. A lot. I also cried. A lot. I thought about calling someone, but what would I tell them without freaking them out? Besides, it was past 11pm. If I am going to make a call at that time, I better have more details than what I knew.
When I arrived at the hospital, Dylan was getting some oxygen and was looking much better. My anxiety level dropped. The doctor figured out very quickly that Dylan had croup, or the croup, however you want to call it. He said that they would give him some medication and he would be much better in no time.
After the medication, Dylan started to breathe better. We stayed in the ER until about 3:30am. I stayed with Dylan in his room for the rest of the night. He still was struggling with his breathing for the rest of the night, but at least I knew what to do. Fortunately, it was a relatively cool night in Jacksonville, so taking him into the night air helped.
Total sleep for the night: 51 minutes.
Four days later and he is doing better. We are relieved.
So, all of that for…croup? I, personally, had never heard of it. Evidently, it’s quite common in young children. Due to our lack of knowledge, it was a more terrifying event than it needed to be. Welcome to parenthood. Like everything else with parenting, you just figure it out as you go.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Thanksgiving Gluttony
I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving.
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Despite the Detroit Lions doing their best to put a damper on the day, (I am numb to their terrible losses by now) my family had a wonderful day. The leftovers lasted throughout the weekend. Just when we thought we had taken gluttony to a whole new level, my wife, requested Five Guys on Saturday night after church. Remember the Tommy Boy clip, “Eeewww, I can almost hear you getting fatter.” That was the reality of Saturday night as we each crushed a burger and fries.
The good news: 2 “Junior” (yeah, right) hamburgers, 1 regular order of fries, and 2 waters equaled $11.39.The bad news: The above also equaled to 2 full additional pounds today when I weighed myself. I don’t think it was 2 lbs. of muscle either. I will have my work cut out for me at the gym this week.
Here are some cute pictures of Dylan in his monkey outfit. More about Thanksgiving and time with Grandma and Grandpa Mohr to come...
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