Torture chamber

For those that don't remember, it was 1 year and 3 days ago that I had to sit and watch Natalie have this (click here) done to her. For as bad and heart-wrenching as that was, nothing prepared me for the Hell we went through today.
A week ago today Natalie took a trip to the doctor's office for her green gooey nose and hacking cough. As it turned out she had bronchitis, which meant a 3-day antibiotic and lots of love and cuddling. We wondered if she was getting any better since she was still coughing on Thursday and Friday, but the antibiotic she was on stays in your system for 10 days so I tried to be optimistic. Then today when she started coughing more and more frequently with more and more vigor, we decided she should be seen. A call to the pediatrician had us an appointment 20 minutes later, so off we went.
I've learned it's never a good sign when a lot of time is spent listening to the lungs, so after a full minute passed and the pediatrician was still listening, I had a feeling the diagnosis wasn't going to be a good one. And I was right; her right lung is still full of crap. We were immediately sent down the hallway for a chest x-ray. By this point Natalie was OVER being poked and prodded. It was way past her nap-time and she plain wasn't feeling good, so I was wondering how they'd ever get a good picture of her lungs. Imagine my surprise when the technician introduced me to The Torture Chamber; a carrier-type, sit-in, plexi-glass, mammogram squisher for poor, unsuspecting babies who already don't feel good.
It was Hell. Pure and simple.
Natalie was screaming and crying and no amount of consoling or singing could calm her down. She had crocodile tears on top of crocodile tears, between her sobs she was crying "Mama! Maaaaaama!" and she was trying so hard to reach for me that I was --this-- close to breaking down myself. Even though she spent 4 minutes in the contraption, I'm positive it did 40 years worth of damage. So was so vocal about her hate for The Torture Chamber that when I carried her out into the waiting room afterward (she was still crying), people were looking at the door and asking "Is she alright? Poor little thing."
Our pediatrician got the results right away and confirmed what he had suspected: pneumonia in her right lung. He even showed me her xrays and pointed out the culprit; a quarter-size fuzzy spot on the film. He prescribed a super-antibiotic and voiced a bit of concern as to why the one she was on last week didn't kill the bacteria. Hopefully this is just a one-time thing and we won't have to test these drugs again to see if they'll work a second time.
Tonight when you're saying your prayers, I'm going to ask that you say one for our family. Our poor girls can't seem to catch a break; first Ashley with her never-ending asthma and now Natalie. Ashley was in the doctor's office on Natalie's birthday and now Natalie was in the office on Ashley's birthday (she was in there on my birthday back in November, too). Sooooo not a tradition I want to start.
For those that are keeping count, that's the 6th trip to the pediatrician in 7 weeks. And with appointments for both girls on Thursday morning, that'll be trip number 7, appointment number 8 in 7 weeks.
It goes without saying; we're sick of the pediatrician's office.