Last week, I got a cold for the first time in my life. All things considered, it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. I was stuffy for a few days, but I never had a fever, never had a cough, and I still kept my appetite.
Unfortunately for Mom, the congestion got pretty bad during the night when I was trying to sleep, so it meant less sleep for her. (On that topic: When I’m filling out the paperwork for her sainthood application some day, the first thing I will list is that she insisted on waking up with me during these crying periods and letting Dad sleep through them.)
Complicating matters was the fact that we spent the weekend in Kennewick to visit Dad’s family and celebrate my Grammy’s birthday. We hadn’t seen them since Christmas, so we were all excited to get together. But it was during our trip that my congestion was at its worst. On Friday night/Saturday morning, I couldn’t sleep for more than 30 minutes or so at a time without waking up and freaking out. As a result, Mom got just a couple hours of sleep, never for more than 20-30 minutes at a time.
And because I wasn’t getting a lot of sleep, I was pretty crabby. I spent the majority of the weekend either preparing to cry, crying, or recovering from crying. Could I have handled it a little better? Yeah, probably. But when you’re three months old, have never been sick before and have never taken a science class, a cold may as well be the Black Death, Ebola and leprosy all rolled into one.
Luckily, a Saturday trip to Target yielded a humidifier (shaped like an elephant, no less!), and that definitely helped. But the real difference maker was that Mom broke out the big guns on Saturday afternoon. That was when she started using the bulb syringe with impunity. Getting ready to eat? You get the bulb. Getting ready to sleep? You get the bulb. Giving Mom a dirty look? You get the bulb.
I must say, I have some mixed feelings about the bulb. There’s no doubt that it helped. It cleared out all the nasty stuff, so I was able to sleep well and actually breathe through my nose when I was eating. But I definitely felt violated. You know that scene in “Starship Troopers” where that one guy (the same jerk who broke up Zack and Kelly on “Saved by the Bell”) gets his brains sucked out by the giant brain bug? That’s exactly how it feels, although I imagine I felt better than he did afterwards.
If you’ve ever wondered what’s going through a baby’s mind when a bulb syringe is used (before, during and after), I’ll give you a brief recap of my thought process:
“Hmm, I’m starting to feel a little stuffy.”
“Ugh, I’m starting to feel really stuffy.”
“Holy crap, my nose is completely stuffed! This is awful! Hey Mom! Dad! Do something!”
“Wait, what’s that blue thing? Why are you aiming it at my nose?”
“Seriously, what is that thing? Wh– AAAAHHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING???!!! AAHHHHHHHGGGGG!!! GET THAT THING OUT OF MY NOSE, YOU SON OF A – Oh. That feels a lot better. I can breathe again. Thanks, I guess.”
[Repeat entire process every three hours as necessary]
I guess what I’m trying to say, as I describe the process of snot being forcibly removed from my nose, is enjoy Valentine’s Day, everybody! When you go out to dinner tomorrow night to celebrate, try not to think of this if you order the oysters.
No comments:
Post a Comment