I am way too tired for a full update, but I thought I’d let y’all know that the status quo around here has sunk to previously unheard-of lows. Here is a brief timeline for illustrative purposes.
Tuesday morning: I receive the good news that a check I’ve been expecting will be in on time. Hooray! I’m going to Albuquerque this weekend!
Wednesday morning: I receive a notice in the mail. Surprise! Connor’s insurance rejected our last claim for services. I owe $300, payable upon receipt. Boo. I’m not going to Albuquerque this weekend.
Wednesday afternoon: Nia is a saint. I am going to Albuquerque this weekend!
Wednesday night: Connor wakes up at 11:00 PM with a cough I can only describe as “harsh and barking,” a breathing pattern I can only describe as “whooping and struggling,” and a sudden urge to claw at his own face and throat in a vain attempt to open his airway (which I can only describe as “fucking terrifying”). Oh, and blue lips. We go to the emergency room post-hasty.
Wednesday night, the reprise: Not pneumonia. Not strep. Not bronchitis. Not asthma. In fact, Connor seems fine now, although his voice is hoarse and his nose is stuffy. We get puzzled referrals to his regular doctor.
Thursday afternoon: Regular doctor completely baffled. Connor has a basic cold with maybe a little redness in his ears. The doctor lifts his gaze to me across the head of my bouncy, chipper, only-slightly-snotty son and shrugs. “Maybe it was a mucus plug in his throat?” His lungs are absolutely fine. That will be $150, thanks.
Thursday night: Fuck, I’m not going to Albuquerque.
(Didn’t I say something about being too tired for a full update? Pay no heed to this long-winded post; it is a product of sleep-deprivation delirium.)