As a Mom… I got to know the Emergency room a lot better (or worse) than I ever had known it. James was ( a wonderful word here) asthmatic. He went from racing 70 miles an hour around the house to hunched shoulders and sitting in a corner in 32 seconds. Housing at Scott AFB was so close to the hospital, it was quicker to walk cutting through a neighbor’s yard and right into the ER. They knew us. We knew the routine: a shot, the IV insertion, and then the albuterol in a breathing treatment. He would be admitted up to the 4th floor, nurses greeted him by name, tossled his blond hair and allowed him free range of the refrigerator full of Popsicles.
Yesterday I was there again. Not at Scott, but at another ER. I was amazed that the breathing treatment still popped and smoked and was just the same. No longer does a nurse give the instructions for the treatment… but a respiratory therapist. I sat there and listened and then… WHOA… it was me who needed it. The mask went on me… the smoke filled my vision and I coughed up a lung or two… but then… amazing. I could take a deep breath. Nice.
So James, hope you don’t have to use that treatment routine again… I know one of your sons do. But we know it works!
It is springtime. It is PCS time. It is always time to travel ahead and even back in memories. Have you had any events that jar the routine in your life? Keep your comments coming in. We LOVE them.byDeborahonThursday, April 10, 2008Email ThisBlogThis!Share to TwitterShare to FacebookShare to PinterestMilitary Life:Breathing treatment,Deborah,Emergency Room