24 hours of Hell

Sunday Night was the start of 24 hours of hell for me.

James my youngest has a cough when I picked him uo Sunday morning, but this isn't unusual for him; when he was 6 months old he ended up in hospital for over a week with breathing difficulties and needed support breathing and since then every winter he gets a chesty cold and is usually showing some weakness.

So as a parent I just kept an eye on it.

By the evening he wasn't sleeping well, he kept waking up crying that he was in pain and was nonstop coughing. I struggled but eventually got him to sleep. By 10 his breathing became short and sharp and it was clear that something wasn't right.

So what do you do?

I was torn between calling an ambulance and phoning the local MedOcc team. I chose the latter as I didn't want to waste the paramedics time just in case it was just a cough. Once MedOcc had phoned back, around 11 his breathing had got worse and I was advised to take him to the hospital.

On the way there he got worse still and the moment we got in he was rushed to a bed and put on oxygen and a Nebuliser. He was in so much pain, struggling to breath and struggling to cry.

It was truly heart-breaking to see.

I tried several times to ring his Mum and let her know but at this moment in time sods law was kicking in. Friday I had broke my phone so it was no longer working and I was expecting a new one to be delivered and his mum had missed placed her phone in the house. I didn't have my laptop and could only remember my home phone number and her mobile. So during this I was alone.

I was lucky enough for my dad to have William over night whilst we stayed.

At the hospital the doctors has managed to stabilize James breathing but we were staying in and he needed to be on the nebuliser over night. With the Doctors saying things like "We think its Asthma" and "We think he's had an Asthmatic response" (Whatever that is) We were transferred to the Paediatric ward and left there to cope. The Nurses there were wonderful, caring and considerate. Me I was a mess.

By the time James fell asleep it was 3 in the morning but as I sat there I couldn't sleep, all I could do was sit and watch him take every breath and struggle to build up enough to take a second.

He eventually stabilised and was breathe properly by around 5am in the morning which was great but still didn't put me to rest.

The morning quickly came round and James work up; Lethargic and chesty but with a little smile on his face. I was by this point beyond tired but I tried my best to support him, play with him and entertain him.

Throughout the day Monday his breathing had significantly improved and by the time it got to the Doctors rounds James was breathing without the Nebuliser and only needing it every 2 hours. And as for me, apart from slowly feeling the lack of sleep creep in, I was still trying my hardest to get in contact with my dad to see how William was and speak to him, as well as, trying nonstop to get hold of James Mum.

The doctors did their bit and put James on a strong regimented routine for an at home inhaler with strict instructions to supervise and observe him at home.

This point I was struggling to do anything, entertain him, comfort him and even just pay attention to the doctors and nurses. Sleep deprivation had completely kicked in as well as hunger. I hadn't eaten since the previous day as when we were being transferred to a more stable paediatric ward it was breakfast time and when we realised they only supplied food for James. I on the other hands didn't bring any change to the hospital so couldn't get anything from the vending machine and didn't have the heart or want to leave him and go to the café. And still no word from Mum.

Luckily James, as I said before, was on the mend and we were released around 6.30pm Monday, with lots of sheets and inhalers and other little bits of equipment. I managed to get home, get my laptop and find his Mums partner number and get hold of her. Subsequently she got both boys now and allowing me to have some rest today.

It was the most horrific and terrifying experience and doing it alone made it even more isolating and fearful. Would or have I been making the right decisions all the way through? Have I said the correct information and details? etc. But I survived and importantly so did James. It was clear that I would struggle as a dad, hands on care support in this way is not my thing. Yet it was also clear that People expected me to struggle more so; I received a lot of comments like "Oh we have Dad here, is Mum not with you?" or even "We usually expect seeing mum not dad"

But despite it all James Held in there and so did I. I personally class that as one parenting point for single parents and single dads.