A barking cough, a wheezing boy, five hours in the hospital and three days of trying to cage the wild animal that is our one year old.
If you read at all what I posted about last year when Baby M had croup and we found out In The Middle Of The Night, you would know that it was rough and threw me into a serious panic. Then we suffered through the Side Effects of the oral steroids that he was prescribed because out of my sweet little boy came this angry monster who yelled and cried every thirty minutes. So it’s safe to say when he came down with croup again this year we were less than thrilled.
I spent days doing laundry, and by days I mean three and by laundry I mean five to six loads each day. Bedding, pillows, favorite toys, the blankets from the living room, towels, rugs and that’s not even counting the millions of things I just plain old disinfected like our couch and every other surface in the house. Regardless Baby J somehow caught it…which totally sucks because he got it much worse than his older brother. It started one night with just a couple barking coughs, he seemed like it would be under control with just ibuprofen, fluids and rest. The next morning he woke up wheezing and crying, coughing that uncontrollable bark. It happened overnight and worsened through the entire day, his breathing sounded horrifying.
Off to the doctor.
We already had a nebulizer and albuterol (for administering breathing treatments) at home but it wasn’t doing my little man any good. At the doctor’s office they checked his oxygen levels which were surprisingly okay and moved on to giving him a breathing treatment. No change, no good. The look of concern on the doctor’s face was enough to make me more nervous than I already was and then she said it, “I’m surprised he is so happy with the way that he’s breathing but I don’t like how he sounds and I’d like for you to take him to the ER.”
Off to the Emergency Room.
In the waiting room I tried very hard to keep him still and content, a big deal with croup is that activity can cause them to breathe heavy and with their throat so restricted it can make breathing a lot harder. If you look at the pictures on the right you can see the way that their throat forms a “steeple.” After half an hour or more of waiting I finally let him off my lap, he ran back and forth until it became harder for him to breathe, then he slowed and began to come over to me crying. It broke my heart that my poor little wild child wanted nothing more than to play and explore in this new place, but we were there because he was ill. A bright light in a dreary day, his daddy met us at the hospital with cookies, gatorade and apple juice in hand.
Four breathing treatments, two vitals checks, a dose of ibuprofen, a chest x-ray, an oral steroid and a different kind of breathing treatment is everything that our baby boy had to endure at the hospital. Oh! And he had to sit still in his hospital room for four hours after already sitting in the waiting room for one. I’m not sure how, but he managed to remain relatively calm most of the time and behaved himself pretty well for being cooped up and agitated.
Back at the house we read over his medications, got him something cold to drink and some food to munch. We put as much space as we could between him and his little brother, all we need is for the youngest to get sick too! Finally, after days and days of breathing treatments, oral steroids, ibuprofen and keeping him trapped in his high chair he is doing much better. I’d say he might even be 100% (but I don’t want to jinx it). The stress of him being unwell and then the relief of him getting better were exhausting, I feel like I could sleep for a week. I’ve rewashed and disinfected everything all over again to make sure if there are any germs or viruses of any kind maybe I can get them before they get us.
Shoo germs, don’t bother me!