Croup

I set up camp for the night on the living room couch with a RSV+, ear infected, tight chested baby propped up in a bouncy seat next to me, sleeping for the moment.  It has been a rough two weeks.  Well, really a rough cold/flu season since October around here, and I'm so.very.ready for health for these littles.  I try to close my eyes, given it is midnight and sleep has been minimal the past week, but the sound of chest rattling croup cough coming from big sister's bedroom door prevents that.

She's approaching 4 years old, but I still have her door propped open tonight.  Listening, worrying, wondering, praying.  That relentless spastic barking cough has overtaken her body.  Two weeks of sickness has left this already petite gal just so very gaunt looking.

She cries because the coughing hurts her chest, which further exacerbates this viscous cycle.

She hates this, she says.  I hate it too.  Sleep deprivation paired with a love so fierce has us both in tears.

We alternate steam, and then the freezing arctic chill overtaking the south this early February morning.  l throw in an albuterol nebulizer treatment for good measure because she has asthma on top of this croupy hell.  The albuterol leaves her feeling jittery and "crazy," so the night is filled with wide eyes and little rest neither a great combination for health and restoration.

Respiratory stuff is no joke.  Even as a nurse practitioner I get panicked trying to make sure I am not being too cautious by sitting home with her like this.  But living here, and experiencing the ERs first hand, I know they are not the place to be unless absolutely necessary.  And even when absolutely necessary, I really question our local ER and their ability to provide quality, proficient healthcare for pediatrics.  

The night is long, and sleepless.

It is hard to see her this way.

I remember these nights when I was little too.  Now I know the stress I put my own mom through and have a newfound appreciation for her.

While I sit here, so thankful that it is "just" croup and not some untreatable condition.  I also know the reality of respiratory stuff in kids.  They are fine, until they aren't, and then when they aren't it goes bad fast.  Really fast.   And "just" croup can turn into a really big deal.  The fear of knowing that the closest Children's hospital is also a 3 hour drive further compounds this feeling.

Man this state leaves much to be desired in terms of health care.  So I text my trusty NP friends who give me reassurance.  Things I know to look for, and think about, but always good to hear from someone else too.

Motherhood, the hardest, most stressful, fierce kind of love ever.

Holding her close tonight, and praying for rest for this febrile little girl of mine.

She needs it.