Sunday, September 25, 10:30 PM. Amy.

This is bad. Claire is really sick. She’s been sleeping most of the evening. On my way to bed a few minutes ago I checked on her and found I couldn’t rouse her. Coolidge was laying close beside her; it was like he was worried about her. She would open her eyes a little and then fall back asleep. Her skin was pale, and once I got some lights turned on I saw her lips had a bluish tint.

The cold has turned into pneumonia, we’re almost certain. We had her breathe in some of Trevor’s asthma medicine, but she was so groggy that we don’t know how much she got. It’s hard to tell whether it’s helping. We’ve given her 500mg of amoxicillin. I just hope it starts working quickly.

She’s still sleeping and still not breathing well. Her lips are still blue. Brewer has gone into town to find some oxygen.