There is a wonderful children's book by Doreen Cronin and Betsy Lewin called Dooby Dooby Moo. It is a funny, quirky story of Farmer Brown and his cows, sheep, pigs, and a duck that culminates with the winning of a trampoline at the county fair talent show. (You just gotta read it!) In the book, the cows snore/sing "dooby dooby moo", and Cal and I get such a kick out of that every time we read it (it is by far his favorite selection!). We try to find ways to work "dooby dooby moo" or some variation into conversation - which is trickier than you might imagine. Except for today. Today it's easy.
We have the dooby dooby flu here.
With my sincerest apologies to the authors, I have been stuck repeating that phrase in my head for the last 24 hours.
It all started innocently enough with a check up at the pediatrician's office. (Mistake #1 - Taking them to a germ infested place in the hopes of helping them be well.) We went on Thursday because Jude has had a nagging cough for two weeks. It hadn't gotten worse over that time, but it sure hadn't gotten any better. He had a head full of goop (that is the exact medical term, I'm sure), so we left with a prescription to dry him out and clear him up. No problem. But by Saturday night he was clearly worn out, and Sunday morning he walked into our room with his hacking cough, flushed cheeks from fever, and a look of misery on his face. We went to a walk-in clinic and viola - a swab of the nose proved he had "the flu" - a.k.a. influenza - a.k.a. dooby dooby flu.
Because he was still having some trouble breathing I slept near him upstairs and Cal curled up with Mark for the night. Well, what a pleasant surprise (conveying sarcasm with those words), Cal woke up with a hacking cough, flushed cheeks from fever, and a look of misery on his face. Hmmm. I took him to the pediatrician's office, and after the nose swab (well, actually after we had to dress him and carry him to the car, and after he coughed so hard he ended up throwing up in the doctor's office bathroom, and after they had to monitor his O2 levels because he was gasping from said vomiting...after all that) we discovered he also has "the flu" - a.k.a. influenza - a.k.a. dooby dooby flu.
They both have Influenza strain B, to be exact, although I like "dooby dooby flu" better. They are both on Tamiflu (and Jude is on an antibiotic for sinuses as well). Cal has had a lovely afternoon of coughing, gagging, then expectorating chunks of "goop" while Jude accompanies that pleasant sound with a choking, percussive hacking. Over and over and over and over...and over.
Since Mark and I each slept near one or the other of the guys, I can already hear the germ clock ticking down. With every twitch or tickle in my throat, I begin to dread the week ahead. We called and asked our primary care doctor for prescriptions of Tamiflu for each of us as a sort of "preemptive strike", but they prefer we get a nice, festering case worked up before they'll get interested.
So here we are, stuck in a mushroom cloud of germs, and trying to put a fun little spin on the last 24 hours of influenza infestation. I confess - it has been a struggle. But as I leaf though this great children's book, I can't help but smile...just a little.
We have the dooby dooby flu.