Description: Really glad I wrote this journalling when all this was happening. My sweet boy. You are so, so tired. We have been the Emergency Room twice with you in the last few days as you are really struggling. You are just a small toddler and you don’t understand what is going on. You don’t get that you have RSV and because you are asthmatic, that it’s serious and we have to make sure you can breathe. There is no way of telling you that all the things that we and the doctors are doing will make you start to feel better. You don’t know all these strange faces though, that keep listening to your chest, prodding at you and forcing oxygen masks over your little mouth. You want your crib to sleep in, not a narrow bed in a neon lit cubicle. You have been sobbing uncontrollably and hugging your Beaker doll tight to your chest. It’s been a tough few days for all of us. We feel horrible having to pin you down to get you to breathe in the steroids and Ventolin all day long. You run away scared when you see the mask and even looking at it on the counter causes you anxiety. We have to give you liquid steroids as well to help clear up the viral infection in your lungs which makes you not want to eat. Listening to you cough is heartbreaking as it rattles through your entire chest. At night, Daddy and I lay awake, listening to you and checking on you constantly to make sure you are OK. Sometimes we pick you up to make breathing easier but mainly we just watch you sleep, watching your every breath. Even though you are wheezing though, you refuse to slow down. You are in great spirits at home (when are you not??) so we know we just have to get through this. Sometimes I think, at 15 months, you are tougher than we are. December 28, 2006