I Blame the Pediatrician

When Greenleigh was about 9 months old, I was out shopping (for baby clothes…shhhh, don’t tell  Erajh) when I ran into her pediatrician.  Greenleigh wasn’t with me at the time, but we stopped and chatted a few minutes.  I really like Greenleigh’s pediatrician; you couldn’t ask for a more personable doctor.  She even offered me a coupon that she had for the store that we were in.  As we were parting, she casually mentioned, “I hope that I don’t see you again in the next couple days.  It seems that when ever I see someone out of the office their kids end up in my office with an emergency very soon after.”  Of course, Greenleigh was in the ER a few days later.

Early this morning, I walked into Hazeline’s room to hear her gasping for air.  It was an awful sound.  It was dark and I couldn’t tell if her nose was plugged or if it was just the way she was laying, but it was bad enough to cause alarm bells to go off in my head.  I quickly got her up and brought her into our bedroom.  I gave her the bottle I had prepared for her, but she couldn’t drink it.  Then I was really freaked out.  That little girl loves her bottles.  The decision was made to go to the ER.

So off we went.

Naturally, this was the day that Erajh had dressed Hazeline before bed and her pajamas (tops/bottoms) weren’t even close to matching.  You know that thing about wearing clean underwear, just in case?  Make sure you dress your child in matching jammies, just in case.  Of course, the hospital staff was great and pretended to pay no attention to the pajamas as they treated her.  After a breathing treatment, a shot of epinephrine, and a little bit of rest, they were able to get Hazeline’s airway back to normal again.  Or, well, close to normal.  Her breathing was labored, but she wasn’t making that terrible noise anymore and for me that was a great improvement.  It was scary and overwhelming at the time, but we were released a few hours later and she’s almost back to her normal self.  Of course, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been in her room to check on her a dozen times tonight and the baby monitor is set to its loudest setting.  But over all we’re improving and that’s a good thing.

So who’s to blame for this scary experience?  The pediatrician.  We happened to see her out having lunch with her family on Sunday afternoon.  Clearly, this is the curse of the pediatrician.  It’s a real thing.  We need to get some sort of GPS locator for her or something.

Napping in the ER