Choose joy?
We are five minutes out of St. Cloud on Highway 15, at a stop light I contort my torso to reach back to put the oximeter probe on Dermot's tiny index finger. He sounds like an old fashioned coffee percolator...O2 78, yikes. "Dermot, you have to cough for me buddy!" no response. I'm on the highway, looking for the next turn off. One more mile, no coughs, the oximeter is beeping double time now. Finally, I turn off the highway and into the Walmart parking lot in Sartell. I keep the car running because of the heat, get out and enter through the sliding van door to the back. I move around Cookie who is laying dutifully on her bed and reach for the deep suction catheter in his supply bag. Got it. Still panic beeping. I carefully thread the long, thin plastic tubing down Dermot's mouth and turn the suction machine on. Sucking, sucking, a moment of breath holding and up comes a giant glob of mucus all over his bib. That's what he needed. O2 level? 89. Really? S...