I was searching Aisle 3A for plastic pellets to recharge the ongoing rock-tumbler summer science project at our house when I heard it.
My radar zeroed in on a sound coming from Aisle 2B: a wheezing child “chop-talking” to his dad. You know, “chop-talking” – that staccato sharp sentence phrasig where you get out a few words, take a shallow breath and speed through the next couple of words in the hopes that you can get it all out before being whisked away to another aisle – which is exactly what happened. They rounded the corner of 3A and my heart sank.
The boy was all of probably 5 years old, purple shadows half mooned under his eyes. Face dusky white, his mouth curled into an “o” before heaving a single sharp cough. “You OK, buddy?” his dad asked as they continued on to Aisle 4 looking for items on the “back-to-school” list he carried in his hand. “Yeah,” the boy coughed.
I wanted to say, “No, Dad, he’s not OK -- he’s only one or two triggering events away from death’s door!”
But I didn’t. It would have come out all wrong, and why should he listen to me anyway? I could be some crazy woman for all he knows. What if his son has never been diagnosed with asthma? What if he was afraid to leave his son with a sitter while he did the shopping? I thought of the phone call we’d just received from a mom whose 11-year-old son recently died of an asthma attack, and of the words of so many who've lost loved ones to asthma: by the time it looks serious, it’s too late. I started to speak and stopped. I left the store.
I have more than 30 years of experience with asthma. I’m not a doctor or nurse, but I can pick out a child or baby with asthma symptoms a mile away. But this dad only had the experience of his son and whatever the medical care provider had time to impart. He doesn’t know any better. As I unlocked the car door and slid into the driver’s seat, I thought, "Maybe he would appreciate my help."
If only I'd known where he was parked -- I could have slid my business card under the windshield wiper. Instead, I turned the key and backed out of my space, still unable to clear the stoic face of this boy from my mind.
Children who wheeze from the time they're infants or toddlers tend to become that way -- stoic -- as they grow older. They have to be; otherwise, they miss out on too much in life. While parents are trying to discern what’s normal and not (we get this question every day), they're also deciding whether the symptoms warrant another day off from work, another visit to the doctor or paying a babysitter to come to the house. It’s not as if they can keep their children tied down. Families have no idea that they're becoming conditioned to accept a certain degree of asthma symptoms as acceptable or tolerable even when they're dangerously not!
It happens so innocently. We hear it all the time: "Well, he’s just a happy wheezer. Always has been.” “He gets a cold if the wind blows the wrong way.” “She’s been worse. She’ll be OK.” “She’s a tough one, that’s for sure.”
By the time a child is ready for school, they’ve become accustomed to asthma, too! They’ve never known another way. Just like kids who don’t know there are leaves on a tree until they get glasses, kids with asthma often have no idea what it means to take a full deep breath until they’ve done it. Repeatedly. For long periods of time.
Part of preparing kids for school is making certain they start out the year healthy and armed with a written asthma action plan. Teach them when and how to ask for help. They need to know the names of the medications they use and when to use them. This is not optional.
Asthma is serious stuff: 10 children and adults die of asthma every single day! Many more miss school and sit on the sidelines, get picked last for team sports and bullied when they can’t keep up. This is the real world, folks. The stuff we as parents and grandparents don’t see.
And it’s also the stuff we can do something about -- just like teaching them not to take candy from strangers or showing them repeatedly how to cross the street safely until they can do it on their own. When our kids have asthma, our job is to help them breathe well and be all that they were born to be. No child was born to feel breathless, cough, wheeze, be congested, any more than they were born to play in traffic every day.
Check out these back-to-school resources for parents and kids:
-Is your child ready to self-administer asthma or anaphylaxis medication at school, if you live in a state that allows it? Ask your child these questions for starters.
-When is it OK for your child to go to school -- and when is it time to stay home?
-Some children have life-threatening food allergies. As a parent, how can you make sure that your child is safe during lunchtime at school?
-Student-athletes with asthma can thrive on the playing field as long as they're careful. Here are some tips.
Back-to-school tips to share or questions about your student with asthma or allergies? E-mail us at editor@aanma.org!
Monday, August 2, 2010
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