Hospital
At 5 AM this morning I’m headed to Vegas for a week, so of course at midnight Avery came into the bedroom wheezing like a broken squeeze toy. My first thought was that he aspirated one of his toys. He goes to bed with a cavalcade of stuffed animals, each with a possible loose piece. Diana thought the same thing, but with a sippy-cup valve.
After looking with a flashlight and trying to get him to admit to anything in his mouth, we rushed to St. Francis. They immediately diagnosed it as the Croup. After a while on Oxygen he insisted he felt better, and went right to sleep when we got home.
I wish I did too.