My beloved middle son is cursed with bad genes. He developed asthma at age 2. We didn't know until we decided to take him to the emergency room because he was grunting and whining all night. Not at all like himself. When we got there, his oxygen saturation was only 88. They told us we should have called 911 and had an ambulance bring him in. Ever since then, it's been a fight to get him on the right dosage of meds. He's maxed out on several of his asthma meds. (He's 9 1/2 now.)
And we recently discovered he's allergic to the sun and moon and everything in between - grasses, molds, weeds, trees, dust, etc. He's begun allergy shots to "get over" this, but who knows. I'm pessimistic at the moment. He had an allergic reaction to one of his allergy shots yesterday. He sneezed once. Eyebrows raised, but no biggie. He sneezed again. OK, wait a little longer in the doc's office. Then he sneezed 3 times in a row. We were whisked back to a patient room where he was given back to back breathing treatments, they had the epinephrine ready to go, they gave him massize amounts of Zyrtec, his eyes turned red, his nose was itchy, his throat was itchy, he continued to sneeze, his ears turned red, they took his vital signs every 10 minutes. He was finally ok. No need for the epipen or epinephrine. We stayed at the doctor's for another hour. Just to make sure.
I know he's not the first person this has happened to, but it's a first for us. A scary first. I now know that Epipen I carry around in my purse isn't just for looks. I may really need it someday. That scares me. I was calm during the storm, but afterwards I'm falling apart. Hence, the title of this post - my gazillionth heart attack (when it comes to my kiddos).
