Sunday, 23 October 2011

A Sick Monkey! Part 1.

Any normal parent values their children more than anything else in the world.

Having had a premature baby, I understand how fragile and special life can be.

I have always had in the back of my head that there would be something wrong with Beanie because of his early start to life. He has surpassed everything, he is a healthy, happy, 7 year old, who is funny and intelligent (sometimes too intelligent for his own good) but other than a touch of asthma, he is perfectly healthy.

Monkey was 11 days early, but perfectly healthy and home within 36 hours.

I never expected him to be ill, or have any problems. The first two years of his life we had no problems other than the normal, teething and general baby issues.
Every time his teeth came through, when I look back now, I realise he did get very chesty, but I just assumed it was because of his teeth, and that was that.

Just after his second birthday, he started complaining that his back hurt. At first it was when we put him in his car seat, then when he got up in the morning. We bought a new car seat, and eventually a new bed, but still he complained. This summer his complaints were every day, more than once a day, and for a two year old to complain of back pain, we decided this was not an attention seeking ploy,enough was enough.

But that wasn't all this summer.

At the end of June we had, had a lovely Saturday at home in the garden. Monkey and Beanie were playing and running around like the lunatics that they are. Late afternoon Monkey started to flag, by tea time he was flaked out on the sofa. He wouldn't come into the dining room for Dinner, by the time we had finished our meal and returned to the lounge, you could hear the wheeze.

By 7pm I had phoned the local hospital to see if we could take him straight up, but no, we had to go through out of hours. We waited for them to return the call, to then be told to take him to the local hospital. (Fuming!) Moors-daddy took him straight up whilst I stayed with the other two. They left the house at 8pm. By 9:15pm I had heard nothing and was beginning to worry. Five minutes later the phone rang, it was moors-daddy saying that we had to take Monkey to Derriford Hospital in Plymouth. I packed the other two up for an impromptu stay at Grannies and we were off.
Our local hospital had tried to nebulise Monkey, but being the stubborn two year old that he was he would not take it. We got to Derriford hospital, having dropped the other two off, and he was admitted. I, at the time had a chest infection and so could not stay with him, but during the remainder of the night he had another five nebulisers, to try and stabilise his breathing.
I returned the next morning, he was still wheezing slightly but was up and about and had found the playroom! He was there all day. We left late afternoon, with an inhaler and spacer and were told to administer 10 puffs every four hours. In the hospital it had taken moors-daddy and myself to pin him down whilst the nurse gave him the inhaler - it wasn't going to be easy, but we knew it had to be done.
We returned home and over the next few days gave him as much inhaler as he would take, to the cries of "no push button", but eventually he improved.

I honestly thought that Monkey would get away without having asthma but it would seem that mummy was far from right.

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