Oh Ryder...

I almost called 911 today. Almost.

He woke up this morning in a fit of coughing. Cough. Cough. Cough cough. Cough. And then, he coughed so hard a few times that he puked. And then more coughing, and then more puking. Cough. Puke. Cough. Puke. Ok, he's done this before, no big deal. So he's not going to school today. We'll work it out. We always do! Until...the barking started. The croupy barking. Bark. Bark. Bark. DAMMIT. Bark. Bark! Bark! He barked all morning til we just couldn't take it anymore, and decided to take him to the doctors. He came home after a hefty dose of decadron, which worked like a miracle the last time he had croup. His lungs sounded great, it was all in his little throat. This time, though, the decadron didn't help a lick. But like a trouper, he managed to fall asleep for his nap, but woke up puking again, and then fell back asleep on Scott on the couch. And when he woke up again, I swear I thought he couldn't breathe.

*[I just don't know what happens to me when I think someone can't breathe. I panic. It's the same with the whole drowning thing. Is it because I almost drowned myself? I dunno. Is it because of the PICU experience that if there are breathing issues involved, I think I only have seconds to correct the situation? i dunno. Whatever it is, I HATE IT. It renders me completely and utterly useless, near tears, shaking, panicking, and completely unable to think. I just don't know why I can't KEEP IT TOGETHER.]*

When he woke up, he just was barking, looked uncomfortable, was crying, and trying to take breaths. It looked to me like he was struggling. It looked to me like he wanted to puke, and wasn't sure what was going to happen. We picked him up and took him into the middle of the kitchen, for easy clean up if he did puke again. And that's when Scott says, "hey grab the puffer". I completely freak out. My pulse starts to rise, and I'm shaking, and I'm trying to figure out which puffer is mine, which puffer is his, which one is albuterol, which one is flovent. I can't even open the package, I have to grab scissors cause I'm shaking so much. All the while he's barking, and crying, and gasping. All I can think of is to call 911. Cause I feel like I can't deal with it, and I'd rather have someone else here with a clear head (like I had with my patients) to sort stuff out. I just kept wondering how long he could keep barking until his trachea completely closes off. And then I start thinking, "well, if this is croup, albuterol isn't going to help, because it just isn't his lungs that's the issue!!!" He won't be able to inhale any of it!!!

Ohhhh I was such a mess. Ridiculous. The whole time Scott is holding Ryder, and just sitting there, calm, both of them on the kitchen floor. He tells me to calm down....I try to calm down...and Ryder stops barking...a little at a time. We all take one big, deep breath. He falls back asleep on daddy on the couch. While he's sleeping, I'm listening to his lungs like a freak. They sound great. AWESOME. Its definitely his throat. His little trachea. And when he sleeps, he moves air fine. It's just the barking and the agitation, that throws him into a fit. =( Poor little guy.

And.....he wakes up, and is completely fine. I just don't get it. These kids don't come with manuals and its completely pissing me off. But god, do I love him. Jesus. He's just everything to me. Everything.