Tuesday, February 14, 2012


I hate hospitals.  Who doesn't?  Having had both my boys by c-section I have had a stay or two in them.  With kids it is inevitable that you will end up in hospital at some stage but because they are both so young and both close in age I feel as though I am at a medical establishment of some sort or another every other week and last week/weekend was no exception. 

This time it was the turn of my youngest.  He's been very poorly all week, I took him to the GP on Friday and he diagnosed him as a "Happy Wheezer".  Have you ever heard a more ridiculous term?  He gave him an inhaler and sent us on our way.  (It's quite concerning to be given an inhaler for a 4 month old).  Anyway, I did as I was told and dutifully gave him the inhaler (which he hated of course).  He didn't seem to improve but was holding his own until Sunday when he became limp and wasn't able to catch his breath at all.  So off to hospital we went. 

Whilst we were there he took a turn for the worse, he developed a rash, spiked a temperature.  and became so weak that several times I had to put my head right next to his mouth to check he was still breathing.  I always try to keep calm and strong for the kids but I must admit that I failed at this point.   

Throughout our time in the hospital there were 2 major incidents in A&E.  A 2 year old and a 1 year old had been rushed in by ambulance, in separate incidents, and the entire paediatric team were called away for several hours.  The department was being run on less than skeleton staff whilst the team were away.  When they eventually returned a few of the nurses were crying.  Sadly the worst case scenario had played out for the 1 year old.  Despite this tragedy and the obvious pressure that they were all under the staff were incredibly attentive and very concerned for my little one.  They were thorough with their tests so that when we were eventually discharged yesterday I felt confident that everything was going to be ok. 

The baby picked up almost as quickly as he had nose dived, much to my relief, and we were eventually given the diagnosis of Bronchialitis. 

In a time where everyone is rushed and hassled and seemingly has no time for anyone else, I saw a small group of people who worked so well together and took such care and pride over their work that I think my faith in hospitals has been restored, at least for now :-)

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