Hospital Stay

Raising kids is never without an unexpected twist or turn. You send your kid to bed on a Sunday night and settle in early yourself so you are well-rested for the start of the week, never expecting that you'll start your Monday in the hospital. When Oliver woke us up with his crying shortly before 11:00 p.m. last night, I assumed it was another night terror and in my groggy state, hoped he'd settle down on his own. By the time I realized his awakening wasn't a routine part of his sleep cycle and had dailed his pediatrician's number I had programed in my phone, I already knew what we were dealing with: a case of croup.

Although croup is an upper respitory viral infection, similar to the common cold, I'd never heard of it before Oliver caught a minor case of it on Mother's Day last year, because it just affects babies and young children. The areas around the vocal cords (larynx) and windpipe (trachea) become inflamed, which presents itself as a simple case of laryngitis in adults, but can be more serious in young ones who have narrower airways. When coughing forces air through this narrowed passage, the result is a seal-like bark. But breathing can also be affected, which is why Oliver's case of croup was more serious this time around. In addition to the tell-tale cough, his breathing was noisy, including when he was breathing in. I had held the phone up to Oliver for the nurse to hear, and she had heard enough to tell us to skip the home remedies and go straight to the ER.

By 11:30 p.m. we were signing in at the ER at Children's Hospital in St. Paul and saw a doctor reasonably soon after that. They adminstered ephinepheron via an oxygen mask to open up his airways and took some x-rays to make sure something else wasn't causing problems (like pneumonia), and since Oliver's breathing sounded like it was improving, I thought we'd be on our way home after that. However, the doctor and nurses still weren't satisfied with his progress and were concerned about a relapse in symptoms, so they adminstered another dose of ephinepheron. That second dose then triggered admittance to the hospital for observation. It wasn't until 3:30 a.m. when we were finally settled into our room - Oliver nestled in the cage-like hospital crib and I sprawled out on the pull-out couch right next to him.

Although a stay at a hospital sounds serious, Oliver's was thankfully uneventful, even if it was tiring and boring. As can be expected, there was a lot of waiting around, but the nurses and volunteers at Children's Hospital were awesome. Poor Oliver cried at the sight of anyone stepping near him with a stethescope or thermometer, but everyone was super friendly and patient. A volunteer brought him a big box of toys and books to keep him entertained in our room since he wasn't allowed to play in the fun-looking playroom down the hall and nurses kept sippy cups filled, brought extra blankets for his crib, and let him choose his snack from the entire stock of cookies, crackers and other treats nurses keep for their littlest patients.

I couldn't believe that something seemingly as minor as croup landed Oliver in the hospital, but I was thankful that his stay was more a precautionary measure and that I knew he'd get better quickly. All around us were reminders that Oliver was most likely the healthiest kid there - kids in wheelchairs, glimpses of rooms redecorated as the nursuries from home and the tired-looking couple I saw waiting to be buzzed into the NICU who looked way too young to be parents. Luckily for us, just when we were becoming too restless, we were discharged. We went home and both took long naps.