Today I took Ailbe for his follow up respiratory appointment. Granted he has been quite poorly all week with a cold. However, what I didn’t expect was an admission straight from the out patients appointment.
We had such a bad 2017 with repeat hospital admissions, with his last one being Christmas Day for 2 weeks. So as we had managed to cruise 2018 without hospital admissions, this hit me quite hard. I don’t want to even get started on why the palms of his hands and feet have turned orange!
To make things worse we are at a hospital that isn’t our usual one. Making travel longer for Kyle and the kids to come in or for Kyle and I to swap shifts if he stays in for longer than a night.
Ailbe currently can’t keep his oxygen levels above 84 when asleep without the support of oxygen. He has had hourly nebulisers, blood tests, medicine shoved down his throat and sadly all over his face, & he has to have an nasal prong mask force oxygen up his nose. Ailbe has gone on strike! He is like a restless tiger lurching around his cot unable to settle because he has cords all over the place. Looking at me in sadness and disbelief that I am allowing it to happen to him. It’s a totally pants week.
The only great thing that happened this week was Conor sang a solo in his nativity. Best of all he sang like an angel ❤️
So Conor and Saoirse have to contemplate another Christmas without their brother at home, whilst Ailbe fights off another respiratory infection.