When we last left our hero, he had come home from the hospital after only a seven-day stay. Okay, eight if you count that we went in early one Friday and came home late the next Friday. Record breaking for him. Less than half what it's ALWAYS been for that dratted common cold.
I did keep him home Sunday, just to make sure, but everything was looking good, so when Monday rolled around, he went to school. And I have to say, a whole lot easier than the rest who'd also had the week before off thanks to spring break.
BUT, um, I guess he was just biding his time. Remember riding the bus to school? Remember that nice, smooth, very relaxing ride? No bumps, no jolts? Yeah, me neither. And his bus isn't (much) different.
Apparently, he still had some residual junk down there which the ride promptly knocked off the walls of his lungs. And he started coughing. And desatting. And turning ugly colors.
Meanwhile, I'm sitting at the computer, getting started on work. My cell phone rings. Now, his school nurse has her very own ring tone. That's one that never gets ignored, or even answered slowly. So I knew the second I heard it there was a problem.
Fortunately, she's amazing. I told her to start bagging him and I'd be right there, wherever "there" was, because they weren't even to the school yet. And because it's Monday and I'm beat, and nothing's (supposed to be) going on, I'm in ratty sweats with my hair just pulled up in a mess. But out the door I go.
His sweet bus driver just put off picking up the other kids and drove straight to the school so I wouldn't have to try to find them. I got there, and he was looking pretty good. But my big worry was trying to decide if this was still the tail-end of his cold, or had he managed to pick up RSV from one of his neighbors up in the PICU. Because those sats, they'd been down at 59 and 60% when I got the phone call.
Viral panel came back clean, we came on home, and I kept him home on Tuesday, too. And just like any other kid who's kept home an extra day "just in case," he was bouncing off the walls (of his bed). He HATED getting his VRP. They take a flexible swab and go up the nose and down the back of it almost to the back of the throat. Dad said that if you're going to get out of school, you have to pay a price.
And Wednesday? Yep, back in school, having fun, learning, growing, and looking like nothing ever happened. Love my silly little man.