Half Cyanotic, Sick, Hypnotic

Harrison has asthma and we have an appointment with a specialist next month.

Of course, that means his asthma chooses to flare up now.

Last night we were at a friend's house with indoor cats. Harrison played mostly in the bedroom that the cats also sleep in. Though he never seemed to react to cats before, his lungs started acting wonky, so I decided it was time to head out. Plus, it was three in the morning, and my mama taught me that anything past three am is overstaying your welcome.

Once home, Harrison's lungs failed to improve. He was using the rescue inhaler every hour. The new red ones don't even work. I scavenged around until I found what is probably the last white albuterol inhaler on the planet. Then we graduated to the nebulizer, which is supposed to work for 6 hours, but it was lasting for only two.

I had Harrison use the nebulizer right before I headed out for a one-hour appointment, and before the end of the appointment, he called me because he couldn't breathe. I talked Paige through setting the nebulizer up and dosing him again.

When Ron got home, I took Paige to 4-H, and Harrison to Urgent Care, where we waited over two hours to be seen. When we finally got into an exam room, the nurse listened to him, and placed a pulse oximeter on his finger.

Normal readings range from 95 to 100. His was in the 80's. The nurse fled the room.

There was no time to study the full color posters of sinuses.

There was no time for "what does that thing do?".

The doctor came in straightaway, took one look at Harris and said, "I've seen kids so cyanotic their fingertips were blue. I've seen kids with asthma so bad, their lips were blue. But I've never seen a kid with asthma so bad it turned their hair blue!"

Harrison smiled and tried to muster a weak chuckle.

The doctor immediately began treating him with a new type of medication in a nebulizer. After the breathing treatment, he still only registered between 90% and 92%.

It was time to pull out the big guns. If after an injection of steroids didn't turn him around, they were going to send him to be admitted.

The shot was pretty uneventful, especially considering he'd never had one, and we were given prescriptions to continue treating him at home.

Anyone with an asthmatic child knows it always gets worse at night, and that's where we are right now.

Ron made him up a place on the sofa right in the next room, but as I type this, Harrison is using the nebulizer in my bed, tucked between his doting parents.