Namine’s cough is still present; worse, it seems to have deepened. We suspect it has gotten into her lungs. So we called the special needs doctor on call – unfortunately, Dr. Gordon is out of town – and the woman who called us back is an idiot. Yes, I frequently put my foot in my mouth. But we know our daughter better than anyone, and when we say we want a chest x-ray, it’s for a good reason.

The doctor didn’t believe me that her cough sounded deeper, or that we knew how to use a stethoscope correctly. She saw no reason to bring us in to the ER. After all, Namine already has a prescription both for the antibiotic to treat her infection and the steroid to combat airway inflammation. But in listening to Namine’s chest, there is a liquid sound to her breathing today. A slight almost bubbly sound when she coughs, and it wasn’t there yesterday. That is concerning enough to us to justify yet another visit to the ER, as much as we loathe doing so.

But the special needs doctor, who has seen Namine two, maybe three times, and so thinks that she knows Namine, said that we absolutely would not need a chest x-ray. We could come in to the ER if we wanted to, and she would alert them of our pending arrival. But then she said something to me that blew my mind. She said she would instruct them to not, under any circumstances, do a chest x-ray. It was unnecessary.

Seriously?

Whatever. So we didn’t go to the hospital. I gave Namine a nebulizer breathing treatment at 6:00 this evening, and again at 10:00, right before bed. She fell asleep fairly quickly, and has only coughed once, briefly. She is sound asleep, and breathing nicely. Perhaps I should thank the stubborn doctor.

But on to lighter matters. We took Namine to the mall for a treat; we promised her “something Tinkerbell” and intended to make good on it. She’s had much to deal with, lately. We wanted to do something a little extra, a little special for her. So we took her to the Disney store, and sifted through Tinkerbell shirts, pajamas, figurines, plushies, pencil boxes, and more. In the end we settled on one of two things: a shirt or a pair of dolls.

This, here, is another example of how Namine impresses us, and shows us how mature she can be. (I say “can be,” because come on, she’s still just two.) She had the shirt in one hand, and one doll box in the other. (The second doll box was in her lap.) We gave Namine a choice: either she could get the shirt, or she could get the two dolls. If I were a bettin’ man, I’d have placed my money on the dolls. But she surprised me – she picked the shirt, and handed me one doll, then the other. No fuss, no whining. She understood the rules, and went along obediently.

She makes us so proud.