My little Smoke Monkey

Poor David. When I got back from Honduras, he had a little cold...which grew into some significant breathing problems. After a two year hiatus, he's back on the nebulizer. (This is our THIRD machine. You'd think I'd learn to keep a nebulizer around!)

David is a good sport about it. But he does like to scare Mary with the "smoke." (Mary doesn't mind the nebulizer too much. In fact, David has assigned her the job of turning it on and off, something she takes very seriously and thoroughly enjoys.)

After nary a sick visit to the pediatrician the entire time we've been here, I think we went a dozen times in April. First it was Mary and her mystery rash. Then it was David and his "crooked breathing" (as he describes it). And David and his bottom-problem. I am relieved to say that I believe we have successfully avoided a trip to the pediatric gastroenterologist. For now, we'll just stick with the breathing problems, thank you very much. At least we've had a lot of practice.

I love my little Smoke Monkey. I am amazed by his abilities to cope with the difficulties of life. This has been a very hard year for him, but he's hanging in there, "fighter-pilot-fireman-Darth-Vader-scuba-diving" mask and all.