Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Fried Pingu? Tastes Like Chicken

Really, it was only a matter of time before someone fell ill in our house.  But a pneumonia diagnosed by stethoscope was totally unexpected.  Over the past couple of weeks I noticed that some of the kids on Jake's bus were missing here and there.  Last week I rode his bus to school and heard one of the older kids in the back hacking up his lung and the antennae went up-smoker's cough or something more sinister?  Mike and I were surprised on a recent trip up to school just how many teens were lighting up on the walk away from campus.  That being said, I started making mental notes of all of the coughing and hacking surrounding us from ubahn to grocery store.  Much more than the typical smoker's cough we normally hear.  It never ceases to amaze the number of Austrians who shop for organic and bio foods and then light up a cigarette on the way out the door.  In addition, as a certified member of the germaphobic society (we drink wine and use Purell at our meetings),  I am always amazed how many people do not cover their cough.

When Jake started with his sniffles and cough, we chalked it up to typical cold season. With his history of asthma, we know the drill and pulled out the puffers and decongestant.  Until early Sunday morning when his fever spiked, breathing turned shallow and heart started racing.  This is known in our house as Code Red.  Cue "Pingu" our trusty nebulizer.  Even at 3:15 am, our deliriously ill kiddo knew help was on the way with Pingu.  Until we made the ill-fated decision to plug in Pingu using only a plug adapter.  ZZZZZapoof.  In a moment of clarity, Jake asked, "Did you fry Pingu?"  I had to answer that we did.  Cue the tears for our faithful friend.

Luckily, we saw the Pediatrician on our street for a same day appointment and with a stethoscope he diagnosed what I suspected through previous experience, a pneumonia in the right lung.  Last time this happened, Jake ended up in hospital for IV fluids.  This time, we trundled home with instructions to stay home, start 10 days of antibiotics and buy a new nebulizer.  Settled at home with some of our supplies, I texted Mike an placed an order for some chicken soup and asked him to stop to pick up our "new Pingu".  God Bless dear Mike, here is what we got.

It Ain't Your Nonna's Recipe, Guarantee!

New Pingu Looks Like a Soviet Cell Block
With Thanksgiving on the way, our plans have obviously changed, but our humor about this new life away from the comforts of "home" will not.  When Jake asked what fried Pingu might taste like, I only had one answer……"tastes like chicken, of course."

"Or sushi,"  he replied.

Happy Thanksgiving and blessings to all!

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