The last 3 weeks have been nothing short of exhausting and emotional. Our entire family came down with the nastiest cold to have ever existed. It was the least fun. No one slept, our kitchen peninsula turned into a pharmacy, and we were consistently running out of tissues and medicine.
But this weekend, finally, we began to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
As the cold of the century rippled through our family, the majority of us were still able to eat and play a bit. The solo member who struggled the most though, was Kenley. Sicknesses tend to hit her much harder than the rest of us and this time was no exception. I wasn't initially concerned, I mean, it's just a cold right? But as she continued to wither away, this mama bear started to worry.
She lost 3 pounds in 5 days. If I lost 3 pounds in 5 days, you probably wouldn't be able to tell. Likely my saggy mom boobs would just get smaller. But on a 5 year old, well it's the saddest sight. Her shoulder blades and ribs poked out, all of her clothes were too big (in fact she wore her 2 year old sister's pjs one night), she was constantly on fire, her eyes were sunken in, and she had to be carried around as she was too weak and too frail. After finally taking her to the doctor (I have the most guilt about waiting), we found out she had a double ear infection and pneumonia. Now I don't know about you, but to me, the word "pneumonia" is scary.
We started her on medicine immediately but as we waited for them to work their magic, she continued to starve herself. I used all the tactics I could think of to get her to eat. Compassion? Nope. Threats? Nope. Pizza for dinner? Nope. Cookies for breakfast? Nope. Judge away but I was desperate.
Tuesday night was the hardest. At least I think it was a Tuesday. The last 3 weeks have been a blur. That night as John was giving Eleanor a bath, I held my frail child in her bed while I quietly sobbed, praying that she would get better soon. I reached out to a handful of family and friends and asked them to pray as well. Including friends who aren't religious. I was scared.
I was scared and I seriously wanted to punch pneumonia in the face.
In fact, if pneumonia were a person, not only would I punch them in the face, I'd kick them in the shins, the balls, titty twist, eye gouge, and bite off their fingers Santa Clarita Diet style. Pneumonia, don't mess with me.
And honestly, this goes for any illness that comes after my children.
I have several people in my life who are dealing with much more severe illnesses. And as my child gets better, I feel super guilty. I have friends whose babies have been in and out of hospitals with no end in sight and I cannot imagine what they are going through. I'm 100% sure they have had moments much scarier than mine. And while I feel guilty and maybe I was overly worried, I was still scared. If not treated, even pneumonia can take a life.
So pneumonia, you better not come back or this mama bear will eat you alive. I'm a fairly passive person, but if you mess with my family, I'm gonna eat your fingers.
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| On the mend. John one night "You are strong like Moana". |
