Little Miss Cough-a-Lot

When Beautiful B was tiny she used to cough a lot each and every time she got a cold.  Yes everyone does, even I know that, but she sounded like she had whooping cough and would cough until she was sick.  I made a nuisance of myself at the GP surgery asking over and over if it was asthma.  As the breathing issues only occurred during a cold, asthma was not diagnosed but as her mum I ‘knew’ different. 

It’s amazing how you can nurse your child at home and just know the moment that changes to requiring a trip to A&E.  As Beautiful B got a little older we got used to going to hospital so she could have a nebulizer to fetch her breathing under control.  I dreaded her being kept in on the children’s ward because she never slept and woke all the children up. 

When her dad and I split up, I lost count of the number of times I was woken in the middle of the night because he would send a taxi round to tell me she was in A&E.  At this time she was 3 and could hold a full conversation with you, breathing permitted.  The fact that she looked and was only tall enough to be 18 months old made for some funny incidents when she would suddenly start telling the doctor what was troubling her.

Each and every trip to A&E resulted in all doctors and nurses asking whether she had asthma.  Each and every time I would say “not according to her GP.”  Our GP was insistent asthma was not the culprit until one particular hospital incident when my baby needed 2 nebulizers back to back to get her breathing under control. 

At the time I was optimistic as there was hope she would grow out of it.  True enough, by the time she got to 8 or 9 she rarely needed the inhaler and hasn’t needed it now for at least 5-6 years.  She still had the odd cold where she would ‘whoop’ regularly but she would never take medicine ‘because it makes her sick’ – I have no idea WHERE on earth she would get that idea from [she says whistling].

3 days ago Beautiful B started ‘whooping’.  Immediately, Hubby said ‘That is not a normal cough’ to which I responded ‘Oh that’s okay, it’s her “non-whooping” cough, she will be fine.’  The next day she had to take a trip out and wrapped up for the cold and when she came back she was breathless and sat down to tell me she was scared. 

Beautiful B’s legs ached and she was scared she meningitis.  In January 2012 her 3 year old sister died last January of undiagnosed Meningococcal Pneumonia.  Although running a temperature of 102 all signs pointed to a severe cold but one morning her legs wouldn’t work and she died 2 hours later.  I put her mind at ease and she took herself off to bed after taking medicine.  Now you KNOW your child is ill when she is taking medicine for the first time at 18 years old!

Not being able to get an urgent appointment at her GP Beautiful B took herself off to the medical walk in centre yesterday after I agreed that as she didn’t have a cold, the breathing issue must be due to something else.  I can only assume she took a taxi because she really was struggling to get enough breath to walk any sort of distance. 

The diagnosis?  A chest infection.  Running a temperature of 38.5 degrees, a heart rate of 120 BPM and breathlessness after sitting in a waiting room for 10 minutes were all the signs they needed before listening to her clogged up lungs.   

So Beautiful B is wrapped up in bed all day and all night feeling the worst she has done in her whole life, popping antibiotics and taking more medicine she asked me to pick up yesterday.  

Where am I going with this?  In essence, you know your baby is growing up when she knows and can articulate that this bout of ‘whooping cough’ is different and that something is wrong.  For the first time, Beautiful B has been able to explain to me how she feels, why it’s different and recognise sensibly that something is different with this bout of illness. 

My baby is growing up; from being 3 years old and telling a hospital emergency doctor that she cannot breathe properly, she is now 18 years old and doesn’t need me to make the decision to seek medical help.  Shame that it feels like she has gone from 3 to 18 in about 5 years – where does the time go?

Who or what to blame....

On the day we got married, Beautiful B was full of a cold.  For how poorly she felt she looks fabulous on the photographs and you would never know.  The poor mite struggled more and more as the day wore on and by 6pm gave up and had to go home and put herself to bed. 

Hubby and I went on honeymoon and have returned and over 2 weeks later she is still coughing.  and coughing.  and coughing.  

It's my fault; she refuses to take medicine "because it will make her sick" - she sounds like I did when I was young.  I drove my parents mad; I would take medicine but not pills for the same reason which became a problem once I got to 12 and couldn't have the banana tasting medicine as it was no longer strong enough.  

So Beautiful B coughs and coughs.  Some of the time she forgets to cover her mouth.  How she is still at work I do not know.  If I was one of her patients I would probably ask for another nurse; who wants to go to hospital for a hip replacement and come out with a cold as a leaving present?

So my cold could be Beautiful B's fault.

Then I went to see my best friend R who was full of a cold.  I sat next to her on the couch and looked at the wedding photos her boyfriend had taken of wedding guests R had ensured were in the photos. 

So it could be R's fault.

Then I went for a flu jab because I am apparently at risk;  I have asthma alledgedly (is that spelt correctly, mmmm) even though I haven't had a full on attack since I was 32. Does asthma cause your chest to feel tight during exertion?  If so, maybe I should be using the inhalers.  Anyhoo, I also take a stream of medication for things such as slipped discs, painful hands and arms, migraine blah blah blah.

So it could be the flu jabs fault but then Beautiful B looked at me with amusement when I said that because although they inject you with flu nastiness it does not cause you to get a cold and she "could get me a leaflet to prove it".  No thank you honey, I have enough to do sneezing, coughing, blowing my nose and wiping my streaming eyes just so I can work.

So apparently it isn't the flu jabs fault but I love Beautiful B and R and therefore don't want to blame them.  I don't like flu nastiness so I am going to blame them because I can.....

Bugs!

Granted it does not take much to get me excited, I admit it, when Hubby said this morning "Ribena, I love you but you truly are a froot loop" I had to agree.  After all, not everyone lives with little Toy Story type aliens in their head on a daily basis.

However, each morning I check the blogs that I follow and I get all excited when I see one from the Queen B - she is fabulous and makes me laugh (and a few times has made me cry when reading the trials she has gone through and how strong she stays). 

Today's blog is about a school project that her daughter has to complete.  This project involves a "killing jar" and 30 bugs - in Queen Bs house for a whole number of days!  Not Queen Bs idea of fun and neither would it be mine.

Had Beautiful B come home and said that she had to collect bugs and then kill them in a jar, I would have refused, once I picked myself up from the floor after the requisite fainting spell.  It's not that they scare me; Hubby has a serious spider phobia going on and Beautiful B was bad with spiders before he moved in so I am the resident spider mover, they just make my skin crawl with their nastiness.

I have been reliably informed by a lovely work colleague who has just qualified as a counseller that I do not have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and that I just like cleaning.  Hubby maintains that I still have OCD, its just now Obsessive Cleaning Disorder.  Seriously though, my OCD would not cope with having bugs in my house; alive or dead.  I would lie awake at night worrying.

As much as I hate them, I'd worry about two things; 1, the mess/diseases/nastiness they fetch in the house on their feet and things (even if they are in a killing jar) and 2; the fact that we are killing innocent animals for some science experiment.  I know it happens in reality in science but surely not in my house.

I love the idea of living in the USA, I dream incessently about our upcoming holiday to Orlando and that is 2 years away, but this is the first time I am glad that we don't live in America.  Their school projects sound so much more intense than ours.  The most I did was grow Cress from seeds and wet cotton wool.  I have a fuzzy memory of dissection of a frog or similar in high school but I somewhat recall refusing to get involved and have obviously tried blanking it from my mind ever since.

Now, seriously - go check out Queen Bs blog - she fabulous!