5
 
 
  
8:08 PM, Friday, November 30th, 2016:
 
I'm waiting to hear word on whether Cameron gets to come home or must spend a 3rd full day at the hospital. 2016 is a mother. Fucker.
 
What the fuck. How did this become a thing? How did we become that family with a sick kid with some chronic illness that is semi-undiagnosed that will just sort of linger his entire childhood? What?
 
I don't even know what day this started nor do I have the brain power to figure it out, I just need to write. So, quick overview:
 
Cam has always had one thing or another. After so many runny noses and exczema we got him tested for allergies earlier this year and only one shot out: DOGS. High on the scale. We've tried to keep the dogs out of their room, sweep as much as possible, but at the end of the day - we've just kind of accepted that we can't give the dogs up for dry skin. His runny noses are an annoyance, but his energy level is fine. However, whenever he gets an actual cold? It does hit him like a ton of bricks. He has a cough that never goes away. We go to the doctor, they say croup, we do some steam... and repeat. It never seems to make much of a difference to his mood/energy, so onward we go.
 
<just had coffee, can remember days now>
 
Sunday night his cough and runny nose seemed like an actual cold, but not producing anything. Dry coughs are the worst... and
 
<interupted by a phone call from Talya at the hospital>
 
And there it is: we have to get rid of the dogs. Alas, I'm jumping ahead in the story but as I just finished UGLY WEEPING I figured I should explain why...
 
So all night Sunday he coughed - and I do mean all night. Talya and I were zombies and although my mother is here visiting, her foot is in a cast and is pretty limited in being able to help. I walked into his room where he was laying on Talya and watching TV and noticed very shallow rapid breathing and a dazed look in his eye. I lost it. "Talya, when did this start? He HAS to go to the hospital NOW."
 
Away they went... I wasn't really angry at Talya - we were lucky to be able to see straight at all after being up all night but he was havnig a severe reaction. Gets to the hospital and they give him some steroid breathing treatments and 4-5 hours later they release him. He's back to himself, although he still has the cough. They believe it's bronchiolits or RSV or... fuck they don't really know. We bring up his dog allergies but they seem to act like that's not the real issue. He's still coughing but his breathing is back down to normal and we set into a routine of laying around and watching TV. The kids are on our bed and my back is to them working on my computer. ALl is good until my mom rolls in on her broken foot scooter and looks at Cam "He doesn't look good, Adam".
 
I turn around and he's laying on his back, shallowly breathing rapidly while his eyes are rolling into the back of his head. He's not getting oxygen and he's passing out. And here come the tears. Wheeeew. You'll never forget what that looked like. I grabbed him and started smacking his back to wake him up. He came back a bit and looked dazed. I had him sit up on a chair and called Talya who was at the pharmacist getting his inhaler. I figured he just needed a hit of that. When she got back we tried it and nothing changed. Back to the hospital she went. Moved Vienna and Mom to Karen (Oma's) house as it was closer to the hospital and went to the ER ready to fight them to monitor him overnight because holy fuck, had they released him in the evening to us? We would've woken up to a dead child who had suffocated in the night. It's clear now that what was happening was he was put back into the situation that was restricting his airwaves and making him suffocate. It was his allergies.
 
Of course it took 2 more days and overnights in the hospital to get that from them. It was actually the phone call we just had that hit it home: they were admittedly just trying to give band-aids for him to better deal with the situation at home. More allergy meds, steroid treatments, an inhaler, etc. The doctor finally said that: "Yes, I can't tell you what to do, but yes these are all just band-aids to help him cope with his allergies so when he has a bad cold or flu he can avoid coming to the hospital." Basically the dog hair/dander is inflamming his lungs 24-7. And come to think of it, I have absolutely noticed him breathing faster than normal throughout his whole life and as they explained: his stomach muscles taking over because his lungs couldn't go fast enough. Yes, I've seen that in resting situations at home just watching TV. He's been fighting this forever and he just happened to get a pretty kick-ass bronchitis that nearly killed him because of it.
 
I don't believe there is a parent alive with the mental image I have of seeing their son nearly suffocate that wouldn't immediately know what the solution was, but I'm hearing from friends online that some people REALLY DO just medicate their kid cause they can't stand to get rid of their pets. I love my dogs more than most. I write songs and make videos about them... but I would SHOOT CEBE IN THE MOUTH to never see my son like that again for as long as I live. I'm tearing up again. So thankful that my mother walked in and noticed that.
 
But I've been dealing with that reality for a couple days now, what is absolutely new (within this ENTRY) is that the dogs are gone. I just sat on the ground and wept (which of course made them come over to comfort me - THAAAAAAAAANKS). Honestly, I'm surprised how much it hurt knowing that it would save my son. Ya know? I'm pretty left-brain logical about that stuff but I guess it didn't matter. Karen is going to attempt to keep them at her house for a bit until we figure everything out. And ya know, that's the true sadness. When your pet dies, you're no longer worried about them. You're crying for you. This? This is going to destroy CeBe. LeeLoo is less attached (just by nature of her breed). CeBe is all black lab and cries when I leave to get the MAIL. She has to live the rest of her life feeling abandoned. That's just an overwhelming sadness for me right now. Maybe things will work out at Karen't house, she does have a good layout for them... time will tell.
 
OK. Well, I now have a fuckton of work to do in 72 hours. He is being released this morning and I have to get them, pick up Vienna from school and then come home and rip up the carpets and start a massive undertaking of getting every ounce of pet dander/hair out of this house. My father and brother are visiting on Sunday and I should JUST be able to pull it all off in time. Whew.
 
Anyway... here's a few images from the past three days that will grow in surreality as the years pass and I look back on them...
 
 
What a November. Fuck 2016.
 
Adam