Bad news, folks. Last night, Andrea went to check on Nate, and he was breathing extremely fast. More like panting, really. I woke him up to see if he was feeling all right, and he couldn't count to ten without taking three breaths. So we put him in some sweatpants and Andrea took him for what seems like our hundredth late-night trip to the hospital. When I told him that we were taking him to the hospital, Nate said to me, very sleepily, "Daddy, I want you to stay here with Jonah." So thoughtful, making sure his little brother wasn't home alone. On the way out, he had a very hard time deciding whether it was 11:00 in the morning or 11:00 at night, but when he got a look at the dark sky, he figured it out.
Andrea can update this with more (and more accurate) details, but she reports that Nate was a trooper. Unfortunately, it also sounds as if he, like his brother, has asthma. Last night was the first night we've seen anything like this, and we don't know his triggers, but it looks like it. For what it's worth, the doctor said he was the cutest patient he saw all night, doing math to calm himself down, after having chosen shots over oral medicine (this is a kid who knows when he won't eat something), advised the doctor, "But I don't want it to hurt me"; recapping afterward, "Ouch! You hurt me!"
Jonah was extremely confused when he got up. Sometimes Andrea is at yoga, but Nate is never missing.
sorry about the double asthma whammy you guys. we own two nebs over here, plus a wide variety of inhalers, chambers, and so on...and our horrible stories of emergency rooms.
one piece of advice no one gave us and we learned the hard way: avoid altitude!
Posted by: maya | April 28, 2009 at 10:32 AM