From Tortured to Tickled Pink!

Oh my sweet girl was SO sick last week. She had very labored breathing, a rattly cough, sunken eyes, no appetite, pale as a ghost.... It was heart-breaking.

Last Tuesday, her labored breathing started. I couldn't get her into her pediatrician until the wee hours of the morning, so decided to go to an urgent care clinic where my office was for a few months because I know and love the people there. They took an x-ray and it was too dark to give an accurate reading. But since all other signs/symptoms pointed to pneumonia, we decided to treat her accordingly. Heavy duty antibiotics? Check.

The next day, just to be sure, we took her to her pediatrician. He just knows what "Chloe's normal" looks like better than anyone else, so we wanted his opinion, especially since the x-ray wasn't clear. He agreed with their assessment and also believed she had croup. So he added another med to our list. Steroids? Check.

Well, a few days went by and rather than getting better, she got progressively worse. She had a few good hours here and there, but in general, she went downhill. I mean, each time she would take a breath, her entire body had to work to make it happen. It was killing me to see her in so much pain and I just wanted someone to fix it and fix it fast!

So back to the pediatrician we went. This time, we got an on-call dude. He was very concerned when he saw how labored her breathing was and immediately gave her a breathing treatment through a nebulizer. She wasn't a fan. Look at her, just saying with her eyes, "Mom, I already don't feel well, why are you torturing me by shoving this thing in my face?"


Despite Chloe's angry glances, the breathing treatment seemed to help and quickly, so I was happy! Then another chest x-ray was ordered. I figured it would be a lay-on-the-table typical-run-of-the-mill x-ray.

I was wrong. Dead wrong.

They shoved her in this contraption that I'm pretty sure was the brain child of some torture chamber specialist from Sarajevo or wherever they torture people.

They don't call it a torture device, of course. But its name is still rather unflattering.... a piggostat. Ugh. It was so awful. Chloe was screaming her head off, even though she couldn't breathe, so she was also having coughing fits. I couldn't even be in the same room for most of the time, then when they did let me back in, they said I couldn't get her out for 2 minutes. So then I was there and she could see me, but see that I wasn't helping her! Oh boy, was she mad!!! I was literally sick -- so much so that the x-ray tech asked if I needed the waste basket. Thankfully, I held things together for the 2 minute torture extravaganza and we all lived to tell about it.

I got pictures of Chloe in it, just so I could show Oby, but I seriously cannot post them. It is too heart-breaking. This kid's face is quite pleasant in comparison, so here's a peak at the piggostat.

I've been witness to quite a few procedures with my little Chloe, and this one has to be in the running for most cruel and unusual. Spinal taps? MRI's? IV's in the head? EEG's? They ain't no thang in comparison. A word to the wise? If someone ever says 'piggostat' in reference to your child, run the other direction! If you choose to stick around, don't blame me when your child is angry and glares at you from across the room like Chloe did after her little "adventure"....


While the piggostat has some obvious negatives about it, the one positive is that its usage did result in an accurate chest x-ray, which showed NO sign of pneumonia whatsoever. So after I did three cheers that Chloe didn't have pneumonia, I asked what she did have. RSV. Awesome.

That night, I came down with a long list of flu-like symptoms. It didn't take long for me to realize that I had been sitting on my hands to prevent myself from lashing out at the x-ray tech as he latched Chloe into the piggostat. Then during the procedure, I chewed the nails attached to the fingers attached to the hands that touched the pediatrician waiting room chair (a.k.a. petri dish of bacteria and viruses). Grrrr! I paid for that ALL weekend. Thankfully, my mom and Oby took over so I knew Chloe was in good hands while I was quarantined to my bedroom with fevers, chills, body aches, and a lot of other symptoms synonymous with feeling like crap.

We opted not to have Chloe's RSV monitored at the hospital. We decided it would be best for her (and all of us) to be comfortable at home with less chance of secondary infections. A nebulizer, albuterol sulfate and O2 monitor? Check.

The breathing treatments helped, but it took 3 additional days for her to really make a turnaround. She now seems to be back to her usual little self! Thankfully she has forgiven me for the piggostat rigamaroo and my neglecting her while I babied my own sickness. She is such a sweet soul and brings so much joy! Oh, I just love her :)