It wasn't as bad as the time he was in the NICU, all tiny and helpless, with a caved-in chest, the possibility of a heart murmer or congetinal heart disease looming in the horizon, angry and hungry and unable to eat.
But it was close. My heart aches when I see children in hospital. The IV, the anguish, the feeling of utter helplessness, the lethargy and lack of appetite, eyes that used to sparkle with life reduced to drowsy, puffy slits.
I'm glad it's over and he's back to being loquacious and manipulative. He has started reasoning with me in his usual cheeky, "pilosopo" way. He's back!
Yuppee yoo hay (as he loves to say when he's excited and happy about something).