A Scoup of Croup

Well early Friday morning, and by early I mean 0000 hours, Mr. Porter woke up in a crazy coughing fit. He couldn’t catch his breath, couldn’t stop coughing, and couldn’t help but cry in between coughs. Even after sitting up he couldn’t stop coughing. I offered him a drink of water but he turned it down stating “owie cough”. Then came the wheezing. Porter has been sick on occasion but fortunately it’s never gotten really bad. This was the first time I’d ever heard him wheezing. It was unknown if he had swallowed something, although highly unlikely since he was sleeping, however there was also the possibility of the H1N1 virus, or a variety of illnesses floating around daycare. The cough sounded a bit croupy but drier than I thought croup sounded so off to the ER we went, because nothing ever happens when InstaCare or the regular doc is open.

We arrived at Alta View around 0030 and signed in. Due to his cough we had to put a mask on. The staff there was so nice and gave us our own waiting room. After about fifteen minutes the nurse took us back and got his information. I was so tired I gave them the wrong date of birth. She corrected me and we laughed. She said “sometimes we make a typo and sometimes it’s just one o’clock in the morning”.

We headed down the hallway through construction and sickness to an actual room rather than the other patients that were separated by curtain only. Porter admired his matching wristband and mask and laid patiently waiting for the doctor. Eventually she came in and checked him out. She tried to get him to cough but of course he had stopped at this point. She gave me the option of waiting for x-rays or just treating the croup. We chose to just get to the treatment and after they gave him a steroid for the swelling in the throat I could tell he felt much better.

The nicest nurse came in and set up his breathing treatment and then we just hung out for another thirty minutes letting him breathe in the cool mist. He was entertained by it for about ten minutes and then it was twenty minutes of me trying to come up with games to go along with it.

Eventually we were discharged from Alta View and made our way back home where we could finally get some sleep. For our first ER visit it went well with a outcome. Let’s hope any that follow will have similar results.

The Sleep Theory

sleep: verb -to take the rest afforded by a suspension of voluntary bodily functions
sleep: noun-the repose of death

Death is something that I have a hard time explaining to myself so how am I supposed to explain it to my three year old. I am at a loss of what to say. My lips quiver. My eyes begin to well up with tears. I pause. I think this is the point where most parents develop their own version of the sleep theory, and for me this is where I found myself at 0630 this morning on the drive to daycare. I took a deep breath and began.

“Porter” I say. “What” is the reply from the back seat. My mind is racing for the right words, the careful simplicity I must provide for the complexity of what I’m about to say. I sigh. “Aden timeout?” he asks inquisitively. “Yes, Aden is in timeout.” “Aden not nice?” he continues to quiz me for the answers he’s looking for. “No, Aden was not nice. Aden hurt Jess”.

At this point my pulse is racing and my sight is getting blurry. “Nanny, Jess?” and then I say it quickly because I don’t know what else to say. “Porter, Aden hurt Jess, and now Jess is asleep and gone to heaven and we won’t see him any more ok?” There is a quiet moment before he answers me. “Aden owie Jess?” I look back and see him wanting to understand so I try to use words I know he understands. “Aden was not soft with Jess. Jess big owie. Jess went to sleep, like the ants in the kitchen.” “Jess sleepin?” “Yes Jess is sleeping now in Heaven with Jesus.” “I go church see Nanny, Jess?” and that’s my breaking point. I don’t know what else to say. I am quiet and then he understands that something is different. “You otay mom?” “Yes Porter mommy is just sad”. “You sad Jess?”, “Yes.” And then much more quiet he asks “Jess sleepin?” “Yes my love. Jess is sleepin” and my tiny little three year old who has no idea what has happened simply tells me “its otay mommy” as he puts his little feet up on my middle console knocking his shoes back and forth. “you’re my mommy”.

There are not words to express the emotion I felt last night and feel today. I am still wrapping my mind around the circumstances that were Jess’ last moments and why they happened. I know he wasn’t a person, that he was a pet, but he was our pet and the absence I feel is deafening.

Sleep well Jess.