If you’ve been around here for a while, you probably know that my daughter has some significant allergies, gets croup regularly, and was recently diagnosed with asthma. Some people find these things to be a burden, the things that make parenting hard. I have never, not even for one second, felt that way.
But I have been scared.
Lately, we’ve been able to control the croup and asthma attacks at home with a nebulizer. It seemed like the attacks were getting just a tiny bit better…more manageable for her.
But last night…something happened.
Last night, as my husband worked hard at a studio 45 minutes away (with his phone on silent), Riley started gasping for air. Really gasping. Like no longer able to communicate and skin turning a different color gasping.
I was up there in seconds. I ran her out to the balcony. I poured the medication into the nebulizer and started to pray.
But she couldn’t get the medicine in. Her airways were blocked. Her eyes were so full of fear that even her tears couldn’t escape.
911: My daughter can’t breathe. Please send help.
Within minutes, six fire fighters from the El Segundo Fire Department were in my bedroom, putting a mask over her face and helping me get my son settled down…because that is a scary way to wake up for a three year old boy. Thank you isn’t enough.
Within minutes, my amazing babysitter was here to hold Liam, get him some milk, and settle him in with Max and Ruby and markers and paper. Thank you isn’t enough.
Within minutes, my neighbor was peering into the ambulance offering to help and agreeing to be on standby to pick us up at the hospital later…because they understand the hours Sean keeps. Thank you isn’t enough.
Within minutes, we were in the ER at Torrance Memorial Medical Center where one of the nicest doctors I’ve ever encountered helped us through this ordeal. Four breathing treatments and one steroid later, she was stable once again. Thank you isn’t enough.
When your child can’t breathe, you depend on those around you to help. We are very lucky to live in a tight knit community where the fire fighters feel like friends, your neighbors would drop everything for you, and the hospital staff truly cares about your little girl.
My little girl is back home, breathing once again. Thank you isn’t enough.
I had big plans for another post, but this will have to suffice for today. Thank you for your understanding and continued support of Practical Parenting. You are all appreciated.
And I am rounding out National Infertility Awareness Week with a post about the importance of friendship and support over at Clomid and Cabernet. Thank you for your support with the launch this week, this cause is near and dear to my heart.
With that, I am taking the weekend off to nurse my sweet girl back to health…
p.s. Shout out to my dear friend Jenny, who was ready to hop in the car and care for my son…even though she has two little ones of her own. Some friendships are meant to last a lifetime. Thank you isn’t enough.