Today my baby boy turned eight years old. The day started out pretty horribly. The Baby woke up and was wheezy and having trouble breathing. I had to take him to emergency. If anyone is keeping track, we only take each kid to emerg twice. We just hate emergency and try our best not to go. The Boy has been twice. Once when he was 2 months old and had a fever, and once when he ate some A535. The Girl has only been once, when she got a hair clip clipped to the inside of her mouth. That time I tried to take her to a walk in clinic, but they wouldn't remove the clip because they were concerned with how badly it was stuck inside her cheek. 
This morning I rushed out of the house with the Baby to take him to emergency. I got quickly through registration, triage and saw a nurse and doctor. I quickly got him swabbed, three doses of ventolin by mask and off to x-ray. I was hoping to make it home in time to go to the Boy's birthday party with the rest of my family. Things were looking good until the doctor disapeared and was gone for a couple of hours. There was a more serious patient needing his attention, so a bunch of patients were left waiting. Eventually he got back and confirmed that the Baby has bronchiolitis. He would have a puffer and he should see our family doctor in a few days.
We left the hospital and rushed over to the Boy's birthday party, late, but I made it. The Boy understood why I missed the beginning. He wasn't mad at me, which made me feel less guilty. The Baby slept through most of the party, he was tired after the ordeal at the hospital. The Boy had a great party, although only 8 of his 12 possible guests showed up. Next year I will invite way more kids!!
After the party, my parents came over to give the Boy his gifts. He had a great day and really loved all his presents.
The Baby's fever spiked in the evening, up to a scary 103.8 degrees. It was 0.3 degrees away from me trekking back to the emergency room.
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