The puking started on Saturday as mommy had the clear-bottle flu from the wedding reception and post-reception activities. What followed was not expected. Tessa started puking on Saturday night. Random barfing. From germs. But no other symptoms. She'd puke and rally and be playing like nothing was up. Luckily, that was short-lived. Nate started with the croup barking cough on Sunday night. Monday night, however, he was barking like crazy and having difficulty sleeping. He was crying and barking and asking me why he had a dog in his throat. When he started sucking air like he was breathing through a straw and his skin was retracting between his skinny little ribs and at his neck, that is when I got a little worried (fancy medical term is stridor). So, me, having a medical background and all knows that he needs cool air and drags him outside in the middle of the night. That wasn't working so I got a little extreme and tried to have him put his head in the freezer but he was having none of that. I decided that we couldn't wait this out until the pediatrician had office hours the next morning. He needed some steroids and he needed them sooner rather than later. So, I woke up Troy from his fake sleep because no one was really sleeping since Nate was crying and barking and couldn't breathe and told him I was going to take Nate to Urgent Care. Well, me being a medical professional I often profess how someone would have to be dying or a limb falling off to go to the hospital. Needless to say, Troy FREAKED OUT and assumed the worst...that Nate must be near death. I settled him down and explained that we needed to get some steroids and we couldn't wait until morning and we'd just be going to Urgent Care. Nate of course overhears "hospital" and he FREAKS OUT. Of course, now I have to wrestle a crying, barking, sucking-air child in to the van in the middle of the night. He tries to convince me that the trees outside were making him better and he didn't need to go.
Well, as luck would have it, urgent care was closed so we were forced to go to the hospital ER. I was dreading a long wait and mobs of crazy people detoxing or searching for their next vicodin prescription. Nate, in the mean time, had calmed down a little but was stilling barking, sucking air and only whining about who did this to him. Luckily our trip was over in record time! We walked in the door at the hospital, Nate still barking and sucking air but not really crying anymore. Let me tell you, you mention that you child is having a little difficulty breathing and wham-bam-thank-you-mam you've got service! Nate was whisked away in a wheelchair before I could even get my name out of my mouth for my visitor pass. The doctor asked him what was the matter and he told him that he had a dog in his throat and he couldn't breathe. Awwh. A breathing treatment, a mega-dose of steroids, and Spongebob juice box later we were headed home with less-inflamed lungs, stickers in hand and a really awesome medical bracelet on Nate's ankle. Nate kept that ankle bracelet on for two days until I convinced him to cut it off. After he was better, he thought it was pretty cool going the hospital and asked if we should get one of those "smoke machines" in case he gets sick again. So, we're not doing so well in the attendance category as we have already missed days for Laura's wedding and now this. Nevertheless, everyone's health seems to be improving around here and we are back on track. 
I know that it would be highly inappropriate to take pictures of my child while he is visiting the ER having a medical emergency. The next day I spent feeding Nate's steroid frenzy and didn't think to grab the camera. So, I have taken a picture of his medical bracelet for which I had to negotiate it's removal.
I know that it would be highly inappropriate to take pictures of my child while he is visiting the ER having a medical emergency. The next day I spent feeding Nate's steroid frenzy and didn't think to grab the camera. So, I have taken a picture of his medical bracelet for which I had to negotiate it's removal.
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