Avery came downstairs one morning, much too early and said groggily, "Mom! Dad! My voice keeps changing!"
Her voice was hoarse and Chet gave her a drink of water and sent her back to bed.
When she woke up for school, her voice sounded normal and I walked her to school.
That evening, Chet said he could hear her barking like a seal and her voice was completely gone. He got her nestled in on the couch for the night and when I got home from work, I took her temp and sure enough, she had a fever. Her breathing sounded like a freight train trying to go backwards up a hill and every minute or two, she'd bark.
I dug out the humidifier and kept that going all night as she snored, but neither of us got much sleep.
The next morning, she slothed around, getting easily winded and trying her hardest to talk so someone could hear her in this chaotic household. We nicknamed her Ariel. She couldn't go to school because of the fever in the night, so I hauled her into the clinic.
She was diagnosed with croup. The doctor wanted to put her on a short course of steroids to help her breathing.
"We can do it in a shot form." she said. "It'd be really quick and..."
Avery interrupted.
"You said I don't have to have any more shots until I'm twelve!" she yelled in a whisper, waving her hands.
The doctor laughed.
"Ok, then we'll do the oral form." she said.
24 hours later, she's as good a new. Well, almost. But Ariel has found most of her voice and she got to go to school today.
Her voice was hoarse and Chet gave her a drink of water and sent her back to bed.
When she woke up for school, her voice sounded normal and I walked her to school.
That evening, Chet said he could hear her barking like a seal and her voice was completely gone. He got her nestled in on the couch for the night and when I got home from work, I took her temp and sure enough, she had a fever. Her breathing sounded like a freight train trying to go backwards up a hill and every minute or two, she'd bark.
I dug out the humidifier and kept that going all night as she snored, but neither of us got much sleep.
The next morning, she slothed around, getting easily winded and trying her hardest to talk so someone could hear her in this chaotic household. We nicknamed her Ariel. She couldn't go to school because of the fever in the night, so I hauled her into the clinic.
She was diagnosed with croup. The doctor wanted to put her on a short course of steroids to help her breathing.
"We can do it in a shot form." she said. "It'd be really quick and..."
Avery interrupted.
"You said I don't have to have any more shots until I'm twelve!" she yelled in a whisper, waving her hands.
The doctor laughed.
"Ok, then we'll do the oral form." she said.
24 hours later, she's as good a new. Well, almost. But Ariel has found most of her voice and she got to go to school today.
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