Sunday, May 29, 2011

Night Time Duty

Dear Little Angel,

I have forgotten how long the nights can be when I have volunteered to wake up every four hours to provide another dose of pain medicine to mask the pain of your recovering hip. With your mother now going on two months of waking every two to four hours to feed your newborn sister, I figured she would never sleep if she was to wake with both of you. Currently to help with keeping you medicated, I have placed you on the large brown beanbag in front of the TV along the side of the family room couch where I sleep at the top of your head.  It so happens as my alarm nears the time to awaken me from my sleep, I have already been awoken by my toddler softly crying as she whispers, "Daddy, my leg hurts."  Pressing the power on the remote control for the TV as to provide enough light to retrieve your previously prepared doses of medicine laid out by the big screen of the TV.  I quietly grab the syringe and a couple of marshmallows to administer your pain relief.  Once the syringe of medicine is spotted by your prying eyes, you begin to scream, "No, daddy, that medicine icky!"  Only with the bribe of marshmallows to mask the taste once you have taken your four hour dose will you agree to take it without being held down.  With the medicine provided and the marshmallows eaten you drift off back to sleep.  For another half hour, I listen to your breathing until I finally drift off to sleep until the next scheduled dose nears.

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