That helpless feeling

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Categories Medical, ToddlersTags , 8 Comments

Our “vacation” down here in semi-sunny Florida has really started off with a bang.  I thought my son sounded like he was getting a little congested on the flight on the way down.  By the next afternoon, we brought him to a pediatric urgent care clinic near my in-laws’ house.

[As a small digression, this was an entirely new experience for me. I don’t know of any urgent care clinics near us in Massachusetts. Our pediatrician’s office has a rotating on-call schedule, and if no one’s on call, then you go to the ER.  This was a brightly colored office, staffed every day until 11PM, in the middle of a strip mall.  Unexpected setting, but pretty good care and child-friendly with TVs playing movies and Dora in each exam room.]

Anyways, the doctor decided it was croup and gave my son some oral steroids and a nebulizer treatment to help clear the airways.  Hard both physically and emotionally to hold a mask over the face of a sick, unhappy toddler.  Though, I must say, having only the one child with me did somehow seem to tap into greater patience reserves…  Treatments went fine, we were sent home with instructions to keep on the Motrin to keep the fever at bay, and just wait it out.

On the plus side, my sweet son might be the most well-tempered sick kid you’ve ever come across. While he clearly isn’t feeling 100%, he’s still smiling and playing and very much enjoyed our trip to the zoo today.  But the cough and the wheezing seemed a bit worse today (and his sister is now starting), and there’s nothing quite so sad as not being able to do a darn thing about it.

Tonight, after he went to bed, it continued to get worse.  He has slept well the last couple of nights, save for a cough here and there, but tonight he’s been a wreck.  My husband went in to get him, and after listening to the poor thing wheeze, has decided to take him back to Urgent Care, maybe for another breathing treatment.

And so, here I sit.  At my in-laws’ house, cell phone by my side. Clearly, one of us had to stay and listen for our daughter, in case she has a rough night, too. (So far, so good.)  I’m sure he’ll be OK, but right now I’m helpless. My sweet boy, who carries a big chunk of my heart outside my chest wherever he is, feels rotten and I can’t kiss it and make it all better.

I know, this isn’t a particularly twin-specific post. I have no advice to give, or questions to ask.  But we’re all moms. We all wish we could take away our kids’ illnesses, pain, or sadness and make it all better with our super-special mommy dust.  And it sucks when we can’t.

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