‘Mommy, my chest hurts.”

Summer has been some kind of dream. 

Eli has had no lung infections to contend with and gained weight and grown taller. 

It has been one adventure after another – but the good kind. Not white-knuckle health scares. January through July and into August. Smooth sailing. 

Last week, Eli coughed for the first time in a long time after he got up. I gave him allergy medicine. He’s just clearing his throat, I told myself every morning.

Today he coughed again. The cough was different. It rattled his chest. 

“Mommy,” he said, “My chest hurts.”

I felt relieved he could tell us how he felt. Sad because he has never told me that before. Worried for what may come.

His lungs are like fly paper to bacteria. Even a little cold can spiral into an infection and hospital stay. Is this one going to stick? 

Eli goes to ‘real’ school this week. 

Thinking of him marching through the doors in a uniform with his sister, his little backpack and lunch pail- oh my heart. 

My chest hurts too buddy. 

I want to protect him. I want him to have a normal childhood. Can we really give him both of those things?
I don’t know.


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