Pneumonia Christmas

The Diary of a Not So Ordinary Boy

Tonight, as I sit here in front of the fire, my children warmly tucked up in bed, it is easy to forget that, for a while, this time of year, these few weeks when we are at our darkest, dampest and coldest, this particularly quiet empty time between Christmas and New Year were not always so cosy.  Winter has long been a problematic time for me; many years have seen me cough my way through plays and concerts, descant parts that still ring in my mind remained unsung as my throat  stopped working in protest and internal temperatures rose, but nothing, nothing that had gone before prepared me for the onslaught that was winter-with-baby/toddler/child-with-Down’s.

The summer when Sam was about five months old we headed into the hospital for a sleep study.  He made this funny little duck noise (it’s the sound of a floppy larynx) and struggled for breath…

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