ANY OTHER GODS WANT TO DROP BY AND GIVE MY BABY BOY A GOOD KICKING?
Because the fear and worry we went through because of his eyes wasn’t enough…..
Connor hasn’t been sleeping lately. A couple of hours in the early evening, then it’s 8+ hours of crying, being unsettled, screaming, the whole works. Lyn and I are swapping shifts every night, trying to get a couple of hours sleep at a time. Of course, we’re not. And during the day, well: he’s not eating, seems to have developed an allergy to moo milk but can’t stand soy (can you blame him? That looks like a greasy nut. Let’s milk it. Ugh), coughs like an 80 year old smoker, has a nose that won’t stop running….. he’s in awful shape. His speaking ability is limited, he gets high temperatures constantly, and has a running battle with chest infections and conjunctivitis.
We’ve been hither with him, we’ve been yon. The end of our tether is so far behind us we can’t remember what it looked like.
Yesterday, he was at the doctor. Again. And this time, he took a look at Connor’s throat. In particular, his tonsils. Which are swollen. Permanently. It looks like they’re causing all the problems, including sleep apnea. So now we have to take him to Joondalup Health Campus, where they’ll consider whether or not to tear his tonsils and adenoids from his body, and jam grommets into his ears.
He’s 21 months old. Isn’t it about time he got a break?