Despite the fact that both Efrain and I were feeling somewhat punky on Saturday with coughing and such, we had a plan, and when you have a plan, you stick to the plan. (That’s a Heidmann motto, btw.) The plan was for Grandma and Grandpa to come up and spend the morning with us, and then go have a picnic lunch at a nearby park. Easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy, as they say. In due course, the Grand parentals arrived around 9:30am, and we hung out for a while, chatting, looking at coins, etc. My camera got passed around with the 50mm prime lens affixed, and it made for some interesting results. I would normally have used a flash for the indoor pics, but my pop-up is non-functional at the moment, so there was some editorial compensating for noise. I did like the shot of the sushi joint nextdoor to the Subway where we bought our picnic lunch.
At the park we were quickly joined by a very interesting goose, who received a great deal of attention, and my family, I’m sorry to say, flagrantly disobeyed the posted signs that ask the public to refrain from feeding the birds. They’re like that… bunch of rebels! Still, their naughtiness gave me ample opportunity to snap pictures of feathered friends both large and small, along with some jolly moments when Efrain felt up to chasing them about the picnic area.
After we finished up our picnic lunch, Laurent took Efrain over to the giant playground area, and we began to mosey over after throwing away our trash. Before we’d ventured far on the path, however, we saw her walking back toward us, carrying Efrain.
I was pretty sure I knew what had happened, and I was not pleased to find I was right. In the last 2 weeks we had been at the ER twice with Efrain, with one pneumonia diagnosis and subsequent prescriptions, along with breathing treatments for his asthma that gets so much worse when he has a respiratory illness. Though he can feel well for a spell, it can turn on a dime, and that’s just what happened. He had gone down two slides, and then collapsed at the bottom of the second one, struggling to breathe.
Paul had run ahead to collect him from Laurent’s arms, and we raced back to the van. Paul climbed into the back seat with Efrain while I drove what was the scariest drive ever. It was touch and go whether we would take the highway straight to the hospital, or turn and head back home to give him a breathing treatment. Just after we passed the point where it would be faster to go home, he became unresponsive and my heart seized up as I prayed and drove, fighting back tears of frustration with the heavy traffic.
God is good, we made it home, and within moments on the machine he was alert and breathing again. I kicked myself something fierce for not having the inhaler with me – but we’ve only had it for a week, never had to use it before, and this is all so new to me.
I know it will get better as he gets over this, I know I will learn how to be prepared, and I pray it will get less scary.
Sunday night after evening mass, the girls came home with the most thoughtful gift from a choir mate whose child also has asthma – a handy-dandy inhaler-helper for littles! What a blessing! He said they had an extra one and I’m so thankful he thought of passing it on. That right there is solidarity, my friends. Thanks be to God, we don’t have to figure this out all on our own.
