Yes, the nasty Croup paid our little boy another visit – and I think it’s safe to say that Croup has worn out its welcome in our home. Last night, it happened again- just three weeks after the first attack. Like de ja’ vue. A sad and sorry version, anyway. The panicked cry for help around 1am. My maternal “alarm” going off and the realization that – though I was still in a half-sleep state – my boy was in trouble. The fear. The wild eyes as he gasped for breath.
Friends – this is simply put, a horrible way to spend a night.
I will say we were far better for it this time around – and having tools at our disposal that we lacked the first time – we handled it much better, I think.
Still, we were just exhausted (all three of us) from the event. Trying to calm him. Relax him. Help him take small breaths that would help him settle down. Cold air. A short walk outside. A 15 minute steam shower. Vicks vapor rub all over his chest. Ice-water. Drying tears and more tears. Speaking as gently as possible. Soothing him. Lemon ice.
On and on until 3am.
And so, after all was said and done…
He slept.
And we tried to.
But how can you really sleep when your child is in distress? Worrying that it might start up again?
Today he is doing better – with the help of a visit with his pediatrician and a steroid treatment. I think we might avoid a repeat for tonight. But for tomorrow?
For the next week?
For next month?
I’m scared.
I’m afraid we might be in for a recurring role from the Croup. And can I just say? Not a fan.
