Have you heard of the respiratory synaptic virus? Yep, neither had I, but we will eventually become intimately acquainted, I fear.
There’s been a dearth of updates here, I know. Work gets busy, but what’s stopped me from blogging this week or so is more of the viral variety. The bad, sick type, not the Internet sensation one.
I first heard of R.S. Virus, or respiratory synaptic virus, late last week when I saw a little whiteboard at Mr K’s childcare centre announcing that 2 members of his suspiciously empty baby class had it. My heart sank; if it was newsworthy and half the baby class was AWOL, then it was likely I was going to get to know the virus very well, very soon.
On Saturday, I woke up feeling lethargic with pain in one side of my throat – tonsillitis. I felt crap and I had a ton of things to do, so I tried not to worry about Mr K suddenly sneezing and sniffling. Even his sensei, when I dropped him off at childcare, was trying to be optimistic. The seasons were changing, after all.
Nope. On Sunday, he was wheezing with a fever that came and went, and by Monday afternoon, we were at the doctor’s. The official diagnosis was bronchitis, the third time since he was born. We were to return in Thursday if he still had a fever, and we had to take him to a hospital ASAP if his coughing got out of control.
The week staggered on. R had Tuesday off so that was sorted, and Mr. K’s fever seemed to ebb a bit. A night of poor sleeping ensued and then, on Wednesday, we actually made it to childcare before we discovered his fever was back. By then, it was too late to initiate our various back-up plans and so I had to take the day off. Wednesday night sucked as well, but not quite so much, and so it was a rude shock when we took his temperature on Thursday morning and discovered that, despite his perky mood, the fever was still present.
We resorted to calling in R’s mother and, after I was done working for the day, we headed back to the doctor. Unsurprisingly, he called for an R.S. virus test… and very surprisingly, that wasn’t it. The test (pro-tip – it involves sticking a cotton bud, or a q-tip, up an enraged baby’s nose) came back negative.
No, Mr. K’s bronchial tubes had basically gone from being constricted to being infected. Antibiotics were in order.
One day on, Mr. K is still in a good mood and his temperature is in the normal range, if on the high side. His appetite for solids is starting to come back and, periodically, bouts of coughing annoy the hell out of him.
Me, though? Tired, so tired. I tend to draw the night shift when Mr. K needs attention, because I work less, R spends his work days riding as briskly as feasible on a motorbike while I spent my work days bouncing around like a puppet, and I have the boobs for support. I was prepared to head to my own GP over my tonsils, which weren’t clearing up and were leaving me feeling awful on top of the general exhaustion of looking after a sick baby.
So there hasn’t been a lot of writing. A lot of groggily staring into space, but not much writing. I might manage a better effort next week 😦