After coming back from Jamaica, I was stuck on a little bit of a high. I was still very excited about how my trip had turned out, and was looking forward to making some new dreams come true. I certainly did feel as if I had started off on the right foot where my new endeavours were concerned, and was and am still hopeful about it’s prospects. However, when I say that not even a week passed before I was knocked off my high,..I am not kidding.
I noticed the following weekend after I had arrived, that my daughter was not feeling well. She had a cold, and a cough that I didn’t like to hear at all, but she was only a bit lethargic with her movements, which was to be expected. Overall she seemed okay, just that she couldn’t shake the cough. I was concerned, but not overly so. It persisted on Monday, but then Tuesday afternoon, after the kids were picked up from school, and they came to pick me up from work, I noticed my child just did not look like herself. I told my husband that we should drive directly to the hospital, because I was not able to shake the feeling that something was really wrong. Plus, she suffers from asthma and I feared a severe attack was going to come on. She was not wheezing, at least it was not as obvious as I was accustomed to seeing it when her asthma did flare up, but I was not taking any chances.
Her vitals were taken immediately when we arrived at the Emergency Room, then the doctor listened to her chest and it turned out, that she was indeed struggling to breathe. It had been over a year since her previous bout with asthma, and I had even boasted the week before that she seemed to have grown out of it to someone. Now there we were at the hospital, ready for my child to get nebulized.
I felt like crying. My son was excited to be there, because of course, there was lots of action happening. He asked if she was going to be ok, and I told him yes, so that was all the reassurance he’d needed. She did 2 courses and was then checked again, but the doctor was not pleased with what she’d heard. I was very uneasy. Soon after, a nurse came to insert what I will call a ‘thingie’ (’cause I can’t think of the proper name right now) 🙂 ,into her hand, so that they could administer her medicine, without having to continuously prick her with a needle. She was sooooooo brave.
By that time, about 2 hours had passed. My husband had called my mother and she came to relieve him, so that he could take our son home. My daughter sat on my lap, and my mom held her hand while I looked away, because I couldn’t stand watching when the nurse inserted it into her hand.
She was nebulized one more time, then after the allotted time, they used the stethoscope to listen to her chest, and still did not like what they’d heard. This was not good, because normally, after being nebulized a third time, we were normally given some prescriptions and getting ready to go home. This time, they told us we had to go and get her chest x-rayed. I was besides myself.
After the x-ray was done, we went back to the area where she’d been getting nebulized. The doctor then came and informed me that my child may possibly get admitted into the hospital, because they feared she’d had pneumonia. I just about lost it. My eyes welled up with tears, but I refused to cry on front of her. At that point, I told my mom to go home, because there was to be more waiting for the paediatrician on staff to come and examine her. They needed to have his opinion, before they made the final decision about keeping her at the hospital or nor. My mom reluctantly left, and then they took my daughter and I, to an area where she could lay down comfortably with a bit of privacy.
By then, the hunger REALLY kicked in for both of us, but by that time, the hospital cafeteria was closed. Our only option, was their expensive ass, vending machine. The only thing I didn’t cringe at was …
…and a Ribena.
We were trying to lift each other’s spirits by joking around, and tried to convince ourselves that she wouldn’t have to stay overnight, but after about 2 hours, (it was after 1 am by that time) the doctor came re-examined her, and told us, that she was indeed being admitted. I think she was kind of happy, because it was exciting for her. She couldn’t wait to tell her friends that she had to stay at the hospital. There I was dying inside, and that child of mine was excited about staying. 🙂 I was glad that she was in good spirits though. We were finally taken upstairs to the children’s ward at around 2:30 am, where she began her course of medications to combat the pneumonia as well as the asthma.
Picture footage of our hospital adventure below….
After I woke up that morning and felt satisfied with how she looked and behaved, I waited patiently for the doctors to come around and give me some good news. She had felt much better by that time, and her breathing was out of the 80 something percentile up to the early 90 something percentile, but still not good enough. So she had to stay another day. I could not believe my child was that ill. I was so sure that they would come in and discharge her after her examination, but no such luck. It was a very stressful experience. I was glad however, that they took all precautions, and cared for my child so well. I then told her I was going to go home, have a shower and bring her some change of clothes and a couple of books to study as she would have been missing some of her final exams that day and her nintendo to keep her from going crazy. I returned as quickly as I could with her stuff, so that she could shower and not feel so icky any more.
I was very much tempted to jump into this vacant bed next to her.
We were there for another night, Those 2 nights were 2 of the longest nights of my life.
I could not have smiled any brighter when they told me that my child was going to be ok. I spoke with her doctor, got her prescriptions and signed her discharge papers, and thanked God for watching over my baby. These are the parts of parenthood that you can never prepare for. You know that they may happen, but to see your child sick, brings a pain that can never be described. The lesson I learned from all of this, is that bottom line, NOTHING, that you do in your life, will ever be as important and as fulfilling as your children. I also learned to always follow my gut. You can never be too careful with your children. Even if they don’t say that they are hurting, check out their body language and their attitude. If you see something looks different or they are behaving differently, take immediate steps. I remember asking her why she didn’t tell me or her dad that she had had such a hard time breathing, and she told me that she didn’t want us to worry. I told her it is not your responsibility to worry about us, it is ours to worry about her.
I am beyond grateful for the staff at the Mt.St.John Medical Center, who took such amazing care of my child. However, I hope to NEVER return under those circumstances again. As a matter of fact, let me be clear. I hope to NEVER return there for any type of illness for myself or my family or my friends. I pray health and well being on our lives, ALWAYS. AMEN! 🙂