Thank goodness we live in a country that has an emergency health system, ambulances, and educated doctors. If you're sensitive to scary kid stories, don't keep reading (though, thank G-d it has a happy ending).
Thirty-six hours later, I'm finally ready to talk about what happened at 2am yesterday.
Yehonatan, my beautiful and amazing boy who is almost six years old, who just 'recovered' from Corona (though is still run down and not quite himself), came into our room and wheezed/coughed twice. He couldn't talk at all. He could barely breathe.
Wide awake, I leapt out of bed, grabbed him and beelined to the freezer. I held him there, having him breathe in the cold air, and kept him calm by talking about a chicken eating ice cream in Australia (but made sure it wasn't funny since he had very little oxygen). I had Ariel call an ambulance immediately.
(brief backstory: I spend time on different Facebook groups to hear parent stories, some for funnies, some for awareness and learning how to be a better parent. Literally, only two days ago, I read something about stridor. I've known about croup, but not the scariness of stridor. Anyhow, one mom said that the most important things to do are to take the child to the freezer, keep them calm, and get medical attention. I didn't necessarily know what Yehonatan was going through, but I figured the first two wouldn't hurt.)
While I held my second son in the cold, trying to keep his body warm, I started having trouble thinking and making sentences for him. Despite trying to remain calm (I am usually the calm before; the hysterics after), I was so worried about him that I had to call Ariel over to hold him while I went and dry-heaved in the bathroom. I returned quickly and held my curly-man there for what felt like an eternity, listening to him wheeze with shallow breaths, waiting for the ambulance to arrive, and trying not to imagine the worst.
They finally arrived, apparently quickly, and Ariel took him down where the EMTs gave him oxygen, took his vitals (oxygen levels were at 100), and headed to Laniado.
When I was home alone, I sat down on the couch, put my head between my legs and breathed slowly. My fingertips and toes were tingling and I felt nauseated. To distract myself and try to get oxygen back into my own system, I called my brother and asked him to just talk to me, which he kindly and lovingly did.
It didn't take long for my husband and son to arrive at Laniado, where they gave him an inhalation treatment, took more vitals, and declared stridor as the culprit. Below is a picture of him on his treatment (when he still couldn't talk).
The doctor said that it likely was caused by an allergen of some type and that it usually comes on FAST - there's nothing that you can really do to prevent it. I don't think it's a long shot to say that Corona didn't help in this situation at all. Needless to say, we will be taking our son to see an allergist so that we can cover all our bases with him. Below is a picture of him after his treatment, but before he could really talk again.
In case you are unfamiliar with stridor (like I had been)... "Stridor is usually diagnosed based on health history and a physical exam. The child may need a hospital stay and emergency surgery, depending on how severe the stridor is. If left untreated, stridor can block the child's airway. This can be life-threatening or even cause death."
The medical staff at Laniado took care of Yehonatan and released within about ninety minutes and he was home, sleeping in my bed by 3:30am (can't say the same for me). Since then, he's been on two inhalation treatments daily and steroids. He's now able to talk and breathe, which is no small matter.
I am incredibly grateful to Yehonatan for knowing that something was wrong and for coming into our room. I am incredibly grateful for whomever the mom was who spoke about stridor and gave advice. I am incredibly grateful to Ariel Woolf for calling MADA and going with our son to the hospital. I am incredibly grateful to MADA and Laniado for taking care of my boy and saving his life. I am grateful to my brother for listening and caring for me while I tried very hard not to freak out.
This is probably one of the scariest things I have ever experienced in my life (including the time Yehonatan choked on gnocchi). To see my son, to HEAR my son struggling to breathe, and not truly being able to do anything about it - it makes you feel so impotent. I keep hearing a sentence in my head: This could have turned out very differently... but it didn't.
But it could have.
So I'm sharing this with you. Make sure your kids know that if they feel anything wrong in their body, they need to tell their parents. It doesn't matter if we're sleeping and it's two in the morning. Make sure you know what to do for stridor or wheezing. Obviously, breathing is not something to play around with (even more so if your child has/had Corona).
I'm only now starting to feel better about it though thinking about it again triggers my anxiety. As of this evening, our Yehonatan is feeling better, but not quite enough to go to school. Hopefully the new week will bring us all good health. Good health and an iced coffee with vanilla ice cream (what we both decided on the other morning).
Good health to all and may you never go through anything like this.
