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,…