It came down to the fact that I had to make my first (and I hope to God, last) ever 000 call. Sure, Mummy may have over reacted but, my cherished little man, with breath so ragged and laboured I barely knew what else to do. I would never risk losing something as precious as you, so in hindsight it was no overreaction at all.
Bless your beautiful heart, you broke mine as we were whisked outside and into the ambulance. “Ca-a-a-a-r-r” came your standard, but stuttered response as you saw the parked vehicles on the street. I remember thinking “phew, can’t be too bad if he can still summon the strength to say that”. I don’t think I have ever been happier to hear that lilting little voice of yours spring to life!
So we had the diagnosis, confirmed. Croup. Nasty little bugger, which apparently I pinpointed precisely when I described to the Dr that it sounded like there was a seal in your room barking angrily, and, in between each frightening cough was the exceptionally scary sound of you struggling for breath. Textbook definition apparently. You hear that, your Mummy is a veritable Dr-in-waiting!
And finally, I think its safe to say you have truly arrived at the destination of motherhood when you stand and endure your sick child retch and spew forth all the contents of his little stomach directly on to you, so that you are suddenly sporting a thick veil of vomit from head to toe, complete with the chunky chunks of vegies you demanded he digest at dinner a few hrs before. My own fault really – I should have trusted him when he refused to eat… Little did I know I’d be bearing the hallmarks of this indignation much later on!
So you gave your Mummy one helluva scare, Harrison…. And Daddy probably deserves an apology too one day, seeing as though we dragged him from his awards night where he was to receive two awards from his peers. Instead he was helping mop up the oodles of vomit we both were swathed in.
But, despite the fact we both reeked of regurgitated food, I fell in love with you all over again (not that I have ever been out of love with you, oh no!) Clasping your chubby little hand in mine, as I crouched by your bed and stared into those soulful big blue eyes, you staring listlessly back, willing me without speaking to make it all better and for the illness to go away. My heart nearly broke with how you wanted to cling to me, nuzzling your head into my neck in search of solace. If I could have swapped places with you, I’d have done so in an instant! Now all thats left is to face the fact this will no doubt happen again but at least we’ll be better prepared (and no doubt more calm!) the next time we wage war with the nasty Croup!
Photographer Mum says
Oh my goodness I can SOOO relate to your story – My middle child suffered a lot from croup last year and was also taken by ambulance in the middle of the night on 2 occasions (once requiring 2 lots of adrenalin in the space of an hour) and a total of 12 times in 7 months to the hospital. I actually posted about this very thing about a week ago myself:
Croup is a terrifying thing – especially the first time it happens, and if they panic, it makes it worse.
Hope he isn’t too badly affected by it – all the docs have said to me that “he’ll grow out of it” which seems to be true – have only had one mild case this year, so fingers crossed.
Hope Harrison has been better since this post 🙂
Melissa Jane says
Such a scary situation! Thank God for the Ambos! I hope poor Harrison hasn’t had any more episodes.
Scary Donna! Fortunately I haven’t had to do the triple 0 call or trip in the ambulance, but I have had plenty of time in the waiting room of the ED! I hope your little mate is past the worst of the croup years and you haven’t had any further rides in the ambulance? Thanks for Rewinding x
Yes, we too have done the emergency room croup thing. It’s seeing him held down for blood tests, and given the medicine that does you in. No ambulance for us, as we are only 5 mins from hospital, but still terrifying. The chest cave, the bark, the blue… But you know it’s going to be all OK when you get there, and someone comments, ‘that is one sick child” and the Triage Nurse says, “No, it’s only croup!”. We are so lucky to have such fab health care available, late at night, near to home.
As you say, welcome to the parenthood club!