Coughing, Congestion, wheezing, horrible sounds to be coming from my little Heaven. Even after breathing treatments, the wheezing still isn’t subsiding. She’s lying in bed, propped up by two fluffy pillows, mimicking a raised hospital bed. Face mask strapped around her melon shaped head, fighting to keep her heavy looking eyelids open, after all it is 5am in the morning. She should be sleeping but that horrible cough keeps her awake. I lay cuddled next to her, supervising the treatment, making sure the chord does kink and that the medicine keeps being converted into inhalable vapors. As she hears the dwindling, sputtering sound of the air swooshing through the mouthpiece, she opens her eyes, widely, smiles big and happily says, “It sounds like whip cream”. And just for that moment, I see the world through her eyes. My worries about her having a possible infection, my fears of her not continuing to breathe well after we fall asleep, the thought of her maybe suffering a febreic seizure if the Tylenol doesn’t take her highly heated body to normal temperature disappears. For that short, brief moment, we both close our eyes and listen to the wonderful sound of can dispensed “whip cream”.