Me, as his mother, should have pushed harder for an x-ray or an antibiotic that was stronger than than the standard Amoxcillian. He'd had a fever of 103 almost all night the night before we went to the doctor. After a few doses of medication, he seemed fine the morning of our flight, so I finished up packing our bags and we headed to the airport.
A few hours after we landed, he started coughing so hard he was turning purple and getting pale at the same time. He couldn't breath. My MIL and I ended up rushing him to urgent care where the doctors rushed to get him on oxygen and snap x-rays. Everything that the doctor the day before should have done they did in this tiny room that wasn't equipped to handle what Ethan needed. He was so weak from the coughing and lack of oxygen that he could barely move. My heart broke for him, and I was angry with myself for not being more vigilant. He was only 5. I'm his voice. I should have spoken up.
On the other hand, this doctor should have taken more care in Ethan's case. It was 5:45 in the evening. We were the last patients in the day. He spent a total of 6 minutes with us before he shoved a prescription into my hands and sent in a nurse in to show me how to connect Ethan's inhaler to a pediatric tube for him to breath the medication through.
I feel terrible that Ethan got so ill and that I didn't notice the signs sooner. I need to forgive myself for this though. Not all illnesses wave red flags to say they are around. I thought he just had a normal case of the flu. If I had known it was this bad, I would have canceled my trip in a heartbeat and just exchanged my tickets for another time.
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