Talking to fish

Why yes, yes we are lake people, and yes, yes we do like to fish (some of us more than others), but this post is not about the little brownish-greenish things that swim in the lake and sometimes end up on our hooks.  This post is about my Isabella and the name that Madelynn bestowed upon the nebulizer because the mask is shaped and painted like a little fish with hopes of making the nebulizing process easier on little ones.

There is nothing more scary or more helpless feeling than when your child is very sick or hurt and there is nothing you can really do to fix it. 

One week ago today I was terrified. 

Isabella had had a cold (or something) pretty much nonstop for about two months.  She was on and off meds, she would get better for a few days, then she would be sick again.  One week ago today, she woke up congested - sniffling and coughing and throughout the morning she found it more and more difficult to breathe.  When she started gasping for air, even seemingly not breathing for seconds at a time, and panting, I packed everyone up and after dropping Madelynn at her grandmother's house, rushed Isabella to the ER.  Four excruciatingly long hours (a chest x-ray, a breathing treatment, a shot of rocephin, an inhaler, a follow-up appointment with the pediatrician for the next morning, and some prescriptions) later, we left with a diagnosis of "atypical pneumonia, RSV, and severe ear infections in both ears".  After going back and forth about admitting her, the doctor decided to release her to my care.  I was terrified, exhausted, and questioning his sanity.  This baby was still struggling to breathe and she was refusing to eat or take a bottle.  She had not had a wet diaper all day.  I knew she was on the verge of dehydration.

So we trudged home, and I rocked and held her all evening - all night really.  I shot her with the inhaler every couple of hours.  I watched her like a hawk.  Several times, I almost took her back to the hospital.  I even stayed in clothes all night in case I had to rush her to the hospital or even, heaven forbid, ride with her in the back of an ambulance.  I didn't feel safe.  I felt as if she might die.

Somehow we survived until morning and I took her, still struggling to breathe, still not eating or taking a bottle (I had forced a couple of teaspoonfuls of Pedialyte into her by syringe), and still with no wet diapers, to the pediatrician.  

Three hours (another chest x-ray, another breathing treatment, and more prescriptions) later, we were sent home.  I almost begged the pediatrician to hospitalize Isabella.  I was increasingly concerned about dehydration and her oxygen level only went from 94% to 97% after the breathing treatment in the office.  97% isn't awful but it is not the greatest either.  I was even more exhausted and still terrified.  The pediatrician did send us home with the fish, however, and the fish and its magical potion became my new BFF.

That afternoon, Isabella's breathing started to improve and she started to not be so lethargic.  She also started taking an ounce or two of her bottles.  By the next day, her appetite was still minimal, but she was smiling and even laughing and playing a bit with her silly big sister.  A few days later, she was taking solids again, though still only drinking a few ounces at a time.

Now, a week later, she is sleeping well, eating/drinking almost normally, and almost completely back to her usual self.  She still has a runny nose and has some coughing spells, especially in the morning, but she is a different baby than she was a week ago.  She still talks to the fish two or three times a day - and she hates it - either screaming her head off the whole time or resigning herself to it and passing totally out - but that noisy, ugly fish saved her life - that and a whole lot of mommy love and prayers!

(((HUGS))) ...............especially to my babies!