With Sirens

That's how we roll. Or at least that's how we rolled late Sunday night/early Monday morning when the ambulance arrived to take MC to the hospital.

After engaging in a lengthy overnight game of Should We Take Him to the Hospital/Should We Not, we finally decided to just flip a coin. As it turns out, it landed on heads which, of course, means that we had to take him to the ER. (If you're confused by the rules of this game, then likely you've never had to play it. Be glad for this fact.)

Unfortunately, it's necessary to employ such skillful decision making tactics when a kid like MC is involved. Because for a child that never "follows the rules," a trip to the hospital can, indeed, be the most dangerous game.

With his respiratory status sucking (bigger words elude me after  2 days without sleep) just getting him to the hospital is a feat in and of itself. 

Hence, the sirens.

Coin flip timing was critical. Flipping too early meant that we risked sending MC for treatment that could possibly be accomplished at his Home (in a much more comfortable environment), however, flipping too late meant that we risked losing the opportunity to send MC to a hospital that knows him (and all of his quirks) versus the closest available because we'd hit crisis status. On reflection, I think we timed it just right.

Or, rather, MC timed it just right.

Two weeks ago I signed myself and the Princess up for a Monday morning mom and me yoga class.

If you bear any resemblance to my pre-MC far judgi-er self and your head voice comments are ranging from-- Hmmpff, you mean Monday as in the day of the week on which the rest of the world works to Did she seriously just say she was taking her 10 month old to yoga? Let me guess, they got a babyccino afterwards-- bear with me for a second.

Since arriving home to the U.S., Princess has fulfilled her role as Sibling of a SNandMCK without complaint. Always cheerful, never clingy, the girl goes anywhere, befriends everyone and complains to noone.

There's no question that her schedule is dependent upon MC's schedule, and that when their needs conflict, he somehow always ends up getting priority status. No favoritism, of course, simply acknowledgment of the fact that the latter's needs tend to revolve around keeping him alive while the former's tend to revolve around keeping her Puffs supply stocked.

Which is why I was excited to schedule a specific time each week that barring any life-threatening emergencies (and I use that word very narrowly as one could probably label any "ordinary" day in our household as such) would be set aside for the Princess and her mom.

So the first Monday MC decides to thwart our plans by admitting himself into the hospital a few days in advance. But he's on the Peds floor (not the PICU). And he's stable. It's also snowing outside. Non life-threatening in our book. So we go. Despite being the only ones present aside from the instructor and her son (apparently, for some, snow by definition is an emergency) we have a blast.

I think MC was a bit taken aback by my resistance to his attention getting mechanisms. The following Monday he tries a little harder, plotting his discharge from hospital to hospice. Still not budging. Despite a few (non-judgey, of course-- this is why I love yoga) looks from my fellow momma yogis as I'm overheard on the phone coordinating my son's ambulance transport around a yoga class we once again have a blast.

Fed up, MC decides that he will, indeed, make this Monday a life-threatening emergency. Which it was. Even by our standards.

Not to worry, according to the pictures I received from our house this morning, Princess appears to be taking the news fairly well.

The lengths a girl must go to to get some attention around here. 

With love from a Baltimore PICU