A week ago today, I took River to the ER because he was having an asthma attack and his inhaler wasn't cutting it.
We added asthma to the list of his medical stuff just a few weeks ago...
The ER doctor took one look at his wheezing frame, heard his loud heart murmur, and immediately ordered chest x-rays.
He came back with news that River was experiencing congestive heart failure, and sent us on an ambulance to Children's Hospital in Little Rock.
I will skip to the end of the story and assure you that his heart is functioning as normal as it always has (considering the fact that he has a large hole in his heart that manages to pump things just fine).
It was, indeed, just an asthma attack, and we now have him on a daily regimen that includes morning and evening steroid treatments with a nebulizer along with puffs of his albuterol inhaler, a morning dish of applesauce laced with Singulair, and more puffs of albuterol throughout the day as needed.
I could tell you about Bay and Jesse, our friends from church, who willingly took Liam for an indefinite time when we thought we were facing heart surgery. Or I could tell you how our EMT for the ambulance ride was also Jesse, and our paramedic was this guy named Clint who kept me talking about growing sweet potatoes and making cheese and then let me sit in silence when all I could do was watch River sleep.
I could tell you about River walking the halls at Children's in his hospital jammies, a lollipop in his mouth, and a new puppy softie tucked under his arm, and us enjoying the sight, breathing easier knowing that it's just asthma.
It's taken me this week to finally be able to drift my thoughts to those terrifying hours without feeling panicky. But mostly, all I can do stare with relief and wonder at this little boy.
