Counting Blessings

And Wishing You Happy Holidays

Photo by Megan Nixon on Unsplash

I’m sitting here, during the calm before the storm of my daughter and her family coming over for dinner. Turkey and ham are in the oven, the sides just need to be heated up, and I’m sitting while I can and counting my blessings.

My grandson is on the mend after a visit to the emergency room last week. He had croup, which I dealt with annually with his daddy when he was little for years, so I wasn’t too worried until my daughter-in-law called crying, saying she was scared, because he seemed to be having trouble breathing. This was after a trip to the pediatrician, who told her he’d be fine and to take him out into the night air and spend time in a steamy bathroom, which was the same advice I’d been given as a young mother.

Thank God my daughter-in-law is strong and went a step further, calling the paramedics later that evening, who came to check on our boy and announced he also had “Strider (?),” a condition that sometimes combines with croup, among other things, and refers to having difficulty breathing. They gave my girl the same advice about cold air and steam. About an hour later, my girl called a 24 hour emergency nurse line, because he seemed to be getting worse. The nurse asked her to put the phone next to the baby and let her hear his breathing. Just about that time, his lips started to turn blue. The…