A fever. A rash. A cough.
In the car, in the stroller, in the hospital, in a room.
Sleep. Hope never to repeat.
That's been Dominic's second birthday so far, and it's only 3 p.m.
He coughed all through the night, but when his fever hit 39.3 Celsius around 11:30 a.m. we knew we couldn't pretend and get through his party any longer.
Oddly, the thermometer at the hospital showed 38.4 C once we arrived, but a fever's a fever, no matter how slight. Add in the rash that's shown up on his head and the decision was made to re-admit him to the hospital. You don't take chances in our situation.
For his first birthday he got a day pass and smashed cake. This year it went the opposite way, starting at my parents' house and winding up back at the Alberta Children's.
He wasn't a happy kid so Trish opened his gifts for him. My sister had even flown in from Ontario for the occasion but barely got to see him. Friends and family popped by in time to say hi and bye, or so it seemed. It was a whirlwind.
Or maybe, just maybe, his whole plan was to get fawned over by the nurses again. You sly little devil.
As we arrived we were reminded just how special this place is. The nurses had drawn birthday wishes along with gifts and balloons on the windows to his room.
It wasn't the day we imagined, but it's the day we've got. If nothing else, it's memorable.