A virtual hoard of the shiny things I find on the internet.
Peggy Carter helped found SHIELD after Steve “died”.
It was founded at the camp that Steve trained at.
On marvel’s Agents of SHIELD, Agent Ward says “Someone really wanted our initials to spell SHIELD”
Peggy created and named the entire spy organization after STEVE’S SHIELD.
OH MY FREAKING GOD.
I… had not put this together.
Assuming Charlie’s own pediatrician agrees, we expect to still come to CHSH next weekend. But because this ordeal of wheezing and hospitalization and oxygen tubes in tiny noses can start with a bad cold, we’re going to have to be Those Parents for a while.
You know Those Parents. The ones who have to wipe down every restaurant high chair, insist everyone who wants a baby cuddle has to wash their hands first, and won’t let anyone with a sniffle near their precious snowflake.
Yeah, when you see us in Chicago, that’s going to be us. Nothing personal, but if you want Charlie snuggles we’re going to be picky about handwashing and no snuggles from people who have colds or live with people who have colds. Because none of us is in a hurry to repeat the adventure we just had anytime soon.
It sucks, but that’s just how it’s going to be for a while
Also, the doctors think this round was caused by RSV. He should be well past contagious by the time we get to Chicago, but if you have little kids at home, maybe make funny faces at Charlie from a couple feet away.
We’re ready to go home. All we need is for the attending physician to come by and give us the all-clear. And then we can go.
I am about to start kicking down doors.
*carefully arranges hospital room furniture to ensure phone and laptop are both charging but also within arm’s reach of sleeping chair*
about this photo Tom posted… Charlie is prone to bronchiolitis, which is like bronchitis, but since baby lungs are so underdeveloped it leads to a lot of wheezing and concern about blood oxygen levels. It’s the kind of thing that tends to resolve itself if the symptoms can be managed.
The usual at-home treatments weren’t so much working, so after taking him to his pediatrician yesterday and trying some stuff there that didn’t do much to immediately help, she sent us to Children’s Hospital ER, where they did a ridiculous number of additional treatments that didn’t help but did stress him the hell out (I had some serious Mama Bear words for the ER team about the “that didn’t help at all…. let’s do it again!” treatment plan)… and then admitted him so he could have supportive oxygen overnight. The doctors and nurses on the floor have been much better.
He got off the oxygen this morning around 6 and has been doing well without it. He’s still wheezing, though, but it seems like now that some of the stuff his pediatrician gave him yesterday has had some time to work, the albuterol is starting to help again. So we’re hopeful we can go home tomorrow.
In the meantime, he’s his usual charming self- sitting up to play with toys, flirting with the nurses and residents, snuggling in for naps with us. So I’m sure he’ll kick this thing’s ass in due course. Mostly he’s pissed that after all this treatment and being hooked up to all kinds of machines, his superpowers haven’t come in yet.
Thanks for the love, everybody.