He woke with the mildest of colds and had a terrible inability to breathe? Shite.

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5:30 am. I’m sat on the toilet with ripping poop pains shuddering through me, huddled in the dark so I don’t wake Coconut. I am texting TMD because….wait for it….she and Snort are in the hospital.

He started having bad breathing problems yesterday. We gave him lots of ‘breathies’/puffers/inhalers that did nothing; I also tried some allergy meds in case this was allergies. In reality I knew it was a weirdly large reaction to a minor cold he and I had woken up with.

By 6 pm I said I thought he should go to the hospital in a tentative way. And then thought, oh, but that will fuck with bathtime and sleeping.

By 10 pm he’d woken, screaming, unable to breathe countless times. He was scared.

By midnight I was sitting with him upright on the couch while TMD shoved spare pjs, snacks, milk, medical records, money, our notes about his inhaler use that day, a sling, etc into the nappy bag. His inhaler had to go in an overflow bag because even our giant bag was strained with all the hospital shit.

By a few minutes after midnight I calmly told TMD to stop dawdling and get her ass in gear because he had started hyperventilating. So there I am, breathing in and out really slow to model breathing for him, encouraging him to relax – like he was in labour or something.

She zoomed off at 12:18 for the hospital Snort was born at, because our local hospital does not have a children’s emergency department at night. The car had to be on the main beams/brights as the regular beams had just stopped working.

So I’m all calling my mom. (‘Existere, you should NEVER delay treatment! Kids die from asthma. Ooh, the hyperventilating will cause him to become….blahblahblah’). I’m waiting to hear from TMD. I’m blowing my nose for the 3,500ish time in the past two hours, the skin already red and raw.

I fiiiinally fall asleep around 1:45, and was probably out fifteen minutes before Coconut’s anguished screaming wakes me up. I stumble zombie like to her, realise I need to make a bottle, she breaks loose and runs from her room, screaming, ‘Mummy, Mummy,’ as she looks for TMD. I make some sort of hobo bottle of roughly the right amount of water but way too much formula, so she ends up with what is, essentially, a very very thick milkshake.

She is back asleep by 2:30. I exchange a few more texts with TMD, blow my nose 20 more times,etc.

Now, despite being sick and sleep deprived, I wake up around 5am like fucking clockwork. Cue ripping poop pain. I am sat on that toilet in the dark, not wanting to wake Coco up despite realising I’ll never fall back asleep, when I hear our cat start harking. Deep gagging noises that mean she’s about to puke it up big stylie, probably leaving an awesome hairball. She does this once or twice a year, so the hairballs are large.

Can you hear it? Can you hear the music playing? ‘Lovely day, lovely day, lovely day, LOVE-LY day!’

At this point here’s what I know:

the hospital gave him two hours of hardcore breathies, every twenty minutes. He also received steroids. Like here at home, the breathies did absolutely nothing so he had his first ever proper nebuliser breathing treatment. TMD said she heard the doctor say to a nurse that they are planning 6 hourly intensive breathing treatments for today, so no talk of coming home.

In 4.5 minutes, TMD will have been awake for 24 hours – minus an hour long nap yesterday afternoon. The last night she had sleep she woke up hourly for feeds.

I hate that we have no second car and I have no driving license. We’ll see how today goes, but Coconut and I may have our first ever train ride up to that city, and then maybe a taxi to hospital. TMD, of course, has the carseat – so we’re reluctant to do this as it’s not very safe. Guess we’ll see how the day goes.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I just realised I forgot to look for my cat’s puke. (And the mouse on my netbook has stopped working, rendering the only functioning computer we have virtually useless. I may just puke on top of the cat’s puke.)

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