I dread the moment the kid catches a cold. It’s never just a simple sneeze or runny nose. It’s never just a little fever that some ‘tussin or Tylenol could take care of. I can’t remember exactly when he was first diagnosed with asthma, but he’s been dealing with it for most of his life, like a few of our family members. I can’t recall how many different medications he’s been on since he was about 3 years old, but for the past few years, he’s been consistently using Advair and Albuterol.
Last night I had to rush the kid to the ER because I saw that he was clearly in distress. His regular nebulizer treatment wasn’t helping, and his wheezing was the worst I’ve ever heard. Thankfully, the hospital is around the corner from my house, so we didn’t have far to travel. Usually at Howard County Hospital, if you’re a child, you’re seen immediately and registration is done later.
*I was in the middle of writing this earlier today & apparently fell asleep..exhaustion will do that to you I guess*
At about 2pm we found out the kid is being transferred to Johns Hopkins because they’re better equipped in handling severe asthma cases where the oxygen levels won’t stabilize. We’re both tired & exhausted. My mother is here also. He threw the blanket over his head when he heard the conversation between the doctor & I.
That’s when he cried. That’s when I cried.
He cries, I cries. That’s usually how it works. Thankfully my mother is still here, because we’d both probably would still be in tears.
He gave me a fist bump.
Winked his left eye.
Everything will be ok.
Now we wait for the transport to arrive from Johns Hopkins.