Any-heidi-ho...my poor sweet baby girl lives in a swamp. At least that's Student Dr. Daddy's goal.
Her little stuffy nose from Thursday - turned little cold from Friday turned into a real, live, viral yuck on Saturday. I'll spare you the details involving nose suctioning and albuterol and coughing and the like. You're welcome.
Between prayers for healing and prayers of thanksgiving that things aren't worse (and they could be in so many way) and prayers that even if things don't get better right.this.instant they don't get worse, the humidifier has been running pretty much non-stop for days. And by "'pretty much," I mean, it's only been stopped to be refilled.
When we jinxed ourselves by buying a humidifier for in case she gets sick (and then found her sick a week later), we also obtained a digital humidity meter. It says the ideal humidity for coughs and colds is 60-80%. Never mind whether this is true. Never mind whether the thing is accurate. We must reach the Promised Land, by golly!
But we live in Arizona. It's a dry heat. And since it's January, even heat is relative. So the thing runs and runs and runs. Don't get me wrong. It actually seems to help her sleep and breathe while she's sleeping and stuff, so that's good. The problem is the obsession (and let's be honest, it's not mine). We reached 60% for about a minute before the open door caused all the humid air to escape and blend with the rest of the house. Most of the time, we've been languishing in the 50% range.
Which is actually kind of remarkable when you consider that 50% humidity usually freaks us desert rats out and prompts fears of the precipitation variety.
But I'm ready to turn the darn* thing off and get my smiley, crazy girl back.
|What do we want? Crazy baby! When do we want it? Now!|
* Not the word that is actually in my head.