Small Problems

And in the true spirit of the universe, as soon as you complain about a problem, you are shown just how small that problem is.

My friend, Jim, died two nights ago. In his sleep. He's not that much older than my husband. We weren't super close friends, but when we were working fair, we'd often stop to flirt and hang out with each other. He was the kind of person who can do sleazy/charming. The definition of an adorable scoundrel. In character, he straddled the line between smarm and gentlemanly perfectly. He was a flirt, and always had a witty or fun comment. He was a great Bass and a fantastic actor. He's been going through a lot. I spent a day at fair just sitting and talking with him all day last year. He was sharing his pain and I was coping with early pregnancy. I never would have thought he would be dead a year later. I wish I'd be at fair last weekend to see him.

Ah Jim, I hope you're having a great time wherever you are. You will be missed.

Cu-Cu-Cah-CROUP???

TL;DR - Everyone is ok! Scary day. Croup is no joke.

I am exhausted.

My kid had a sudden onset of Croup on Saturday afternoon (Croup is known for being sudden). I did all the correct things (thanks, Uncle Internet and Aunt Web MD), but he just kept getting worse. This culminated in a trip to the emergency room around 9pm. My husband drove so I could ride in the back our son and keep him calm and, if need-be, perform emergency CPR if he stopped breathing for good.

Yes, it really was that bad.

He was so tired from trying to breathe that he wasn't eating or sleeping and continually stopped breathing as if he were trying to hold his breath. Regardless, I still suspected that we were being over-protective parents. As a first-time Mom, I try so hard not to be that mom (you know the one - she's jumps at every and any little thing and is ready to call 911 at the drop of a hat). I don't want to be made fun of and I don't want people rolling their eyes at me. I'm not a hypochondriac and I don't want my kid to be one. So I'm sparing with Dr. visits and with medications. Until my husband got home, I was still holding my kid over the humidifier in stubborn insistence that it would fix him.

However, the Emergency Room staff immediately made me feel better. They kept telling me we did the right thing and that this was serious. Up until that moment, I had half-suspected that we would just be sent home, something that's happened to a lot of my friends when they seek care they don't really need, even though they may think it's serious. We were in a room with him hooked up to machines and receiving treatment within 10 minutes of arrival (including the walk from the parking lot).

We spent that night in the ER, watching the hours tick by slowly as our child received treatments every couple hours and wavered between getting better and getting worse. It was the single scariest night of my life. Everytime he started barking instead of breathing, my heart sank. The Dr kept warning us that he was looking like he may need to be admitted to the nearby hospital with a children's ward. I hate hearing that hospitals even need a children's ward. No child should have to be in the hospital.

15 hours later, we were finally allowed to leave - with the planned follow-up appointment for the next day. Neither of us had slept, but our son had. And we drove home hungry and weary, but full of relief that our son was (at least temporarily) better. I stayed home with him Monday and Tuesday (and got sick myself) but I reveled in all of his crying and coughing and hoarse babbling because it meant he was BREATHING.


So, yeah, that was my weekend. I had thought croup was a relatively minor thing that I wouldn't have to deal with at all, but a piece of cake even if I did. I was wrong. I wonder how many other things I'm going to be wrong about in this first year.