Feeling Good Again

Man, it never seems to end with the asthma-induced agony. After a fun Saturday including an action packed revista/review Spanish session at Sponge with Campbell and my peeps, Daddy and I headed home where the plan was to take a nap before heading over to the Smiths for some more Campbell action and an adult dinner prepared by Mommy and Daddy with Doug and Tia to celebrate everyone's birthdays over the past few months.

The nap Daddy really wanted me to have turned out to be more than a guy could hope for. I was wired for sound and feeling really good. After 2.5 hours of bossing my guys around in the crib, Daddy finally faced the music and begrudingly liberated me from an afternoon behind bars. He was positive that he would be miserably regretting that somehow he'd mismanaged my sleep time and that the anxiety of the impending Ella-nobyl meltdown interrupting his much anticipated fete with the Smiths was almost too much to deal with.

As it turned out, Campbell and I had a GREAT TIME playing until 10PM... The time that Mommy and Daddy chose to leave (The time they chose to leave - They weren't leaving on my account). How do you like that? And I was as pleasant as pie the whole time.

That all came to an abrupt end at about 1:30AM when I couldn't breathe anymore and was truly miserable. Mommy got up with me and fruitlessly tried every trick in her comprehensive book of tricks to try and get me to sway even one inch from inconsolable. Twas a long night for everybody. Everybody except Daddy this is... Turns out two Champagne and vodka martinis (known as "The Big O") along with healthy courses of white and red wine is enough to buy a guy immunity on this night's edition of Survivor. At 3:30AM Mommy confided in me that she hoped the bastard's head hurt the next morning. Just for the record... It didn't.

We were supposed to have a play date at our house Sunday morning with my friend Sophia Tiritilli so that her mom and dad could get some stuff done around the house before the impending arrival of Baby No. 2. Since I was clearly under the weather, Daddy quickly formulated Plan B and set a course that involved retrieving Sophia from her house and relocating her to Green Lake where he would escort Miss Tiritilli around the lake atop my Radio Flyer tricycle. Upon completion of this task he was to engage in play employing, but not limited to: swings, slides, teeter-totters and bucked-toothed otters. His report was that his 2+ hour respite from The Grumpiest and Most Uncomfortable Toddler, or GMUTE for short, was a success on all fronts.


Check out my pal Sophia... She's got the Billy Idol snarl!

The rest of Sunday was a bit of a grind for everybody but my spirits were gradually lifting as Daddy's diligent nebulizer sessions were definitely helping. But I was constantly on the edge of a full-blown attack so The Parents were busy formulating a plan to get me to Dr. Spector's the next morning to make sure my condition wasn't pneumonia or something similarly severe.

By Monday I was much better due to getting nebbed all through the night and a cocktail drip of non-stop Dora and Diego. Dr. Spector had a listen through his stethoscope and determined that I was suffering from nothing more than my already diagnosed garden variety asthma. But he sent Mommy on her way with a prescription for a preventative inhalant called Flovent. Daddy gave me my first dose last night and two more today. I truly feel like I'm on top of the world. I even slept ALL NIGHT last night.