No, nothing shocking nor scandalous nor likely very newsworthy outside my little universe.  It is just what happens when asthma is flaring and bodily functions you normally don’t need to devote much attention to suddenly become all-absorbing. It is what we are doing at the moment. The morning was spent at the doctor’s office getting meds for the nebulizer refilled and ruling out pneumonia in little lungs.

Air, particularly when it fills your lungs, is something I don’t take for granted. My earliest memories are all tied up in breathing. My first hospitalization for respiratory infections was at 9mo. It was the beginning of more than a few nights over the years that would follow spent looking out on pediatric wards through the haze of the oxygen tent. I loved those tents. They meant relief.

Today we don’t need to run to the hospital for any but the most severe attacks since this machine enables us to recieve breathing treatments in the comfort of our own home. What a long way we have come! And yet, seeing children struggling takes a person right back. Suddenly, deadlines and chores and the million little dramas that threaten to completely fill our days take a back seat to watching their chests rise and fall while you whisper inaudibly, "Breathe.   Just breathe."