Little Boy's Dream...Mama's Nightmare...WARNING...this may take a few minutes!

It involves a firetruck, an ambulance, and a trip (in the ambulance) to the ER...in the middle of the night.

Remember how I mentioned before in this post how much I wanted the croup to stay out of my house? Well, it was back last night with a vengeance! Get comfortable...this will take a few minutes but I need to get it out.

Just as John and I were about to get in the bed last night, Max started coughing. It was the classic croup cough, the one he has had a few times before, so we knew what it was. Then right away he woke up and started crying. I thought he was going to be sick so I took him to the bathroom. While in there he continued to cough harder and get more agitated so now he was starting to have trouble getting a breath. I took him outside into the cool air to see if it would help...nope. Now he was getting even more agitated because he was starting to have an even harder time breathing. He said he thought he was going to be sick so we took him back to the bathroom. At this point I was calling the after hours line at the pediatrician's office. As I was calling I was getting dressed because I had made up my mind to take him to the ER (oh yeah, John was with Max at this point).

I told the operator what was going on and she said the nurse would call me back in 5 minutes. Max and John were still in the bathroom when the nurse called and she said to try running the shower and getting it steamy. Well, I was confused because we had done that in the past when he had the croup but the last time they told us that we should do the cold air and not the steam. I didn't care, I turned the shower on full blast! As I was talking to the nurse I let her listen to Max and she confirmed that it was indeed croup and that he had stridor when he was breathing. She asked if he was retracting and I told her his chest was caving in as he tried to get a breath. Then she asked if I wanted to call 9-1-1. Just as I said, "I don't know" (I thought I could get him there myself), Max started freaking out and saying he couldn't breathe. The nurse simply said, "Call 9-1-1, I'll tell the doctor".

It is a very surreal experience to stand on your front porch waiting for the paramedics to arrive to help your 5 year old son, your first born, breathe. They got there quickly and immediately gave him a breathing treatment. During this time the doctor called and he recommended to the paramedic that they take him to the ER (the medics had already made that decision). An ambulance was called and as Max's second breathing treatment was finishing up they were ready to take him. I carried my 56 pound almost 4 foot tall son to the stretcher waiting outside and got into the ambulance. John was going to get someone to stay with the girls so he could come in the car.

Max had a third breathing treatment in the ambulance because he was still having trouble breathing. When we got to the ER at the Children's Hospital they quickly assessed him and gave him an epi treatment (breathing treatment...apparently stronger than the albuterol he had already gotten) and a steroid shot in the leg (I warned them not to do an i.v. unless absolutely necessary because he would LOSE IT!) John got there about 1ish (my mom came to stay with the girls...thanks Mom, you are awesome). We had to wait a couple more hours to make sure the epi treatment would work and that he wouldn't rebound because it would take about 4 hours for the steroids to start doing their thing. Max could not got to sleep despite mine and John's best efforts to convince him he needed to (apparently the steroids can wake them up and make them more prone to be hyper...great...so he'd be like his normal self then...grin). He didn't need another breathing treatment...thank you God...and we were able to get out of there at some time after 3 am. We got home and got Max in the bed a few minutes shy of 4am.

About 1 minute after I laid down and the adrenaline stopped flowing and the tears started...Abby started crying...she had wet the bed. Change Abby, change sheets, get Abby back in bed, lay down in my bed close my eyes. At 6:20 am...Lucy starts fussing, hold her, give her pappy, lay her back down, go back to sleep...Abby up at 6:45...ugh. Max slept until almost 9 this morning and got up feeling like his old self :) John and I on the other hand are not feeling normal today...however John went to work with a promise that all I have to do is call and he would come right home.

I wasn't sure if Max actually comprehended the fact that his favorite heroes (besides race car drivers and fighter pilots) were standing in his living room last night and that a fire truck and an ambulance were parked right in front of our house. Later at the hospital though I discovered that through everything Max was fully aware because he informed me of two things...1. The female paramedic (from the fire station down the street) that was doing his breathing treatments and talking to him had come to his classroom and read books to his class...2. The next time he goes to Writer's Workshop in his classroom he is going to write about riding in the ambulance.

I thank God for helping me hold it together last night. I couldn't think, before I called 9-1-1, of a prayer to say so I kept saying over and over, "Please God, take care of him". Then suddenly a sense of calm and peace came over me and I was able to function and keep it together for Max and John. I am especially proud of Max for being brave even though I know he was worried and I am very proud of John for keeping it together as well. We were both freaking out on the inside but kept our cool on the outside. I also thank the wonderful paramedics, nurses, and doctors who did a wonderful job for my baby (big) boy.

In a terrifying way, one of Max's dreams came true and he got to ride in an ambulance and have the fire truck come to his house...Max's dream...my nightmare!