To the pulmologist...

So here's the state of the family as we head into the Labor Day weekend: I have shingles -- bizarre as it gets for an otherwise healthy 33-year-old. (Granted, moving, nursing, starting a new job and not getting enough sleep are probably *a little bit* to blame -- but I was never was so fragile before.)

Bryn's now two weeks into a bout of congestion, which probably means another sinus infection, at the very least. Poor guy. Over the last two weeks, we've seen the following symptoms:

• Congestion
• Shortness of breath after activities requiring little effort
• Spells of poor appetite
• Night waking
• Inexplicable crankiness and/or tantrums
• Sporadic, dry coughing
• Pallor

I often wonder how many of these symptoms are in my head, but two weeks of mispronouncing "n" and "m" are indisputable.

So...it's off to the pulmonologist. I'll feel better (or, possibly, terrified) when I see his pulse-ox numbers. Admittedly, I may also feel incredibly foolish (and elated) if she listens to his chest and hears nothing.

Life will be just *that* much easier when he's old enough to use a peak flow meter. For now, I sure wish I could get one of those little pulse-ox finger meters!