We took Katie to the doctor the first time when her throat was so sore I worried she had strep. They did a test and she did not. Just a virus. Fluids and rest and give her body time to combat it. The second time she got sick, around Thanksgiving, I didn't bother taking her to the doctor because it seemed like just another virus. Some of her friends at school had been sick. No big deal. But then she started sniffling again on Sunday. Monday she was both sniffling and coughing, but she didn't have a fever. By Tuesday morning she did, so we kept her home from school. By Wednesday evening she was asking if we thought she was going to die when she could talk again after a particularly horrible coughing fit that resulted in a snotty vomit fest. We took her to urgent care.
The doctor there was awesome, great with kids. Katie's nose is sore, so when she flinched at his coming at her with the nasal flashlight, he laughed, "Come on! I just want to look at your boogers! I love boogers!" She laughed and flared her nostrils extra big so he could get a good look.
They Xrayed her lungs. The good news is she does not have pneumonia. The bad news is that means it's probably bronchiolitis, which is caused by the RSV virus that's been going around. Fluids and rest and give her body time to combat it. The doctor said probably a week.
Last time Katie was sick, the poor girl--and Daddy too since he was one of the parental chaperones accompanying the class--missed a field trip. They were both so disappointed Katie was too sick to go. Me too. I really looked forward to hearing tales of Will in his Grateful Dead tie-die, travelling "further" on a school bus with 60 first graders on their way to a place called Kaleidoscope. Katie's dad would have made that field trip trippy.
But sadly it was not to be, so Daddy stayed home with his little girl and they watched "Willy Wonka and The Chocolate Factory" together while he fetched her tissues and sips of 7-Up and bowls of Chicken and Stars soup until she felt good enough to go back to school.
A couple of weeks ago, Katie brought home a flyer from school with the school lunch menu on it. She got excited as she looked it over.
"Ooooh, Mommy! Will you and Daddy come eat lunch with me on the 13th?"
"Sure. Why?" I asked.
"Because it's the Holiday Meal!"
Last night, on the way home from the doctor, Katie said, "Looks like I'm going to miss the Holiday Meal."
"That's OK, Punkin. We can make a holiday meal for you at home."
Will shot me a look like, "Oh yeah? Let's see you make mashed potatoes and gravy." I contorted my face like, "I'm sorry, she's sick, and I want to say something that will cheer her up!"
Will had the ultimate solution to our little face fight. This morning he drug me into the kitchen, not to whip up potatoes and some drippy animal fat and flour concoction, but to whisper into my ear, away from Katie lying on the couch watching Harry Potter, "Hey, I'm gonna go get Katie a holiday meal from her school."
School cafeteria take-out? Brilliant!
I sat with Katie while Will went up to her school with two Ziploc storage containers. He not only went into the lunch room, stood at the back of the lunch line and filled his plastic containers with a meal to take home to his sick kid, he made arrangements with the school secretary to pick up Katie's school work so we can go over it with her while she convalesces on the couch.
What was Katie's reaction when Will walked through our front door with her very own Holiday Meal?
"Daddy, you're the best daddy in the whole world!" she said, flinging her arms around his shoulders as he squatted before her.