About two weeks ago, Stephen started feeling a bit under the weather. Of course, it takes a series of complicated algorithms along with some pretty serious guesswork to figure out that he’s sick. Sometimes he acts like he feels bad and I have no idea what’s wrong – sometimes his cheeks feel hot but he acts like he feels fine. How’s a mother to know?
Why, take his temperature, you might say.
Yes, and after that I’ll split the atom in my kitchen.
Anyway, we determined that his throat was sore, and after a day or two of lessened appetite, I took him to the pediatrician who poked and prodded with considerable difficulty – and to her credit, swabbed his throat for strep herself (after he bit two of the swabs in half). Strep was negative, he seems to have a croup virus, keep an eye on him, etc. etc.
A few more days pass and a cough develops – a nasty, take-your-breath, cough-up-nastiness kind of cough. I heard a raspy crackle in his throat one night and then noticed after he went to sleep that his breathing was very shallow and rapid. I called the nurse-on-call, who very helpfully listened and counted his resps over the phone. She told me that yes, it was fast, but not alarmingly so. I also asked her if there was a kind of cough suppressant that comes in a tablet to allow crushing and mixing with tea (which is how I give Stephen his nighttime meds) – but she said no. She advised me to see how he was the next morning and maybe call the doctor’s office back. I did that, and the nurse asked me to bring Stephen back.
So back we go, and the doctor listens to his chest (which he sat still for!) and tells me that it still sounds okay. She said that if a few more days of nasty coughing went on, to let her know and they’d call in an antibiotic to the pharmacy, just in case. I reminded her that Stephen would sooner recite Shakespeare than take a thrice-daily/ 10-day course of Amoxicillin, and so she said she’d keep that in mind. Two more days pass, and the cough is persisting. He’s coughing every two minutes and all through the night. The doctor’s office calls in a “Z-pack,” that five-day wonder drug – and I went through the crushing of the pills and the mixing of the tea, and Stephen would have no part of it. He followed the same routine as with the cough syrup and the ibuprofen – swish in mouth, taste suspect ingredient, spit out entire contents of mouth wherever you happen to be sitting or standing. Of course the Z-pack pill was so bitter it would curl your nose hair…
It is supremely frustrating as a mother to have tools at your disposal that will help your child feel better, and not be able to use them…to be unable to tell your child that yes, it tastes yucky, but it’ll make your hot cheeks cool down, and your scratchy sore throat feel better, and your nasty cough calm down. One afternoon I was watching TV for a bit, and I saw a commercial for those Triaminic Thin Strips - a mom awoke to hear her son calling her because he had a bad cough, and she went to him, lovingly popped a Thin Strip into his mouth, and everybody settled back down peacefully. Easy! That stupid commercial made THIS overwrought, over-emotional mom cry like a baby. How can it be so easy for some people? How DARE they flaunt the ease with which they medicate their children! I couldn't get one of those strips in Stephen's mouth with a crowbar. And folks, I get so damned mad that things are often so over-the-top hard with him.
But, we kept going, much in the same way. He’d go to school and be okay, except for not eating much. By the time I’d get home from work, he’d have bright red cheeks and be hot all over. He’d spend the evenings in his bed, just laying there, not being Stephen…and my heart was breaking, not to mention the fact that I was just tired of him being sick. That sounds so awful, but honestly…sometimes it feels like there is no let-up, no reprieve at all.
Friday I took a rare day off from work, and spent the day doing whatever I wanted – what pure luxury! I was able to get outside and do some hiking, and those couple of hours were the best medicine I could’ve been given. To be alone – that in itself was an indescribable joy – and to be free to walk, or sit, or listen to the silence…this is something I must remember to repeat whenever I can. I brought along a small notebook, and stopped at one point to make some notes to mark this occasion. The silence was so absolute that I could hear leaves falling from the trees. I sat for many minutes just HEARING that. It was cool and quiet and lovely – I was surrounded by trees whose leaves had turned yellow-gold, and the small amount of sunlight that fell into the clearing was tinted with brightness and warmth. It was quite honestly the most life-affirming thing I’ve experienced in quite some time. In my journal I wrote in big letters: PEACE. That covered it.
And then, it was over. I picked up the boys at school (another rare delight for me) and we went to McDonald’s for a treat. Stephen picked over his favorite meal (“fries-burger-donalds-hungry” is the litany) and sort of gagged and threw up a little, right at the table.
Ah, jeez. His teacher had just told me a stomach virus was going around. Is there truly no balm in Gilead?
But he didn’t seem nauseated. After that…umm…situation…he picked back up and kept eating. David and Kerry and I sat there, eyes trained on Stephen as if he were a bomb that would explode any minute. Actually that’s a pretty accurate picture of things, now that I think about it.
We made it through, and went home, and Stephen was jumping and laughing which led to hacking and coughing…he went into a spasm of coughing and I could tell he was getting choked up. He walked to the living room and I followed…I was three steps behind him when he let loose and brought up everything in his stomach. And so I put him in the tub, cleaned up the floor, and wondered when the nightmare would end.
To make a long story short (well, sort of) I’ll tell you that he didn’t have the virus; he was merely coughing so violently that it made him gag. He made it through the rest of Friday and most of Saturday before it happened again. Thanks to David’s quick reflexes we avoided another huge mess – and by yesterday Stephen was noticeably better…acting more Stephen-ish and coughing a bit less, and certainly less violently.
He woke up at 2:00 a.m. today with a coughing jag, but it’s a drier, ticklier kind of cough, and this morning he didn’t cough at all, bless ‘im.
So life goes on, doesn’t it? I have been in contact with a compounding pharmacy to find out what our options might be for the next time (as there will surely be a next time) that this little guy of ours needs to take some medicine.
Wonder if they could compound some antibiotics which look, taste and smell like McDonald’s fries?
