Yesterday morning, when it was apparent that my son was still a hunk of burning love, still blowing chunks, still hacking up a lung every five minutes, we decided that a visit to Dr. Hot was in order. Poor kid hasn't slept more than an hour at a stretch since last Wednesday. (Me either, which is why the posts have been scarce.)

Mercifully, (it could have been a great blog entry, though) the hubs came home from work to stay with the girls so I could take Ralphie to the doctor.

A snippet:

"Bleh-uh-uh-guh-cark-hork. Mommy? I'm still happy though."

Anyhoo, a quick listen to my kid's chest and Dr Hot said "we'll send you home with antibiotics today... looks like *cough cough pneumonia cough*"

I raised an eyebrow and said "Excuse me, what?"

He spent a good three minutes 'splaining that my son had a lower respiratory infection, blah blah blah and that people freak the heck out when you call it pneumonia.

Yeah, DUH. But yea! New drugs, right?

So I'm dispensing more drugs than a back alley pusher, and feel hopeful that we'll get on top of this in the next few days.