I knew that it was bound to happen. Within just one week of starting daycare, Noah was sick. I wasn't surprised. We experienced this downward spiral with Nathan. I was just hoping that it would take longer than a week.
The diagnosis: Bronchitis.
The poor kid was miserable. He had a terrible cough that would keep him up at night and his eyes were red and watery.
We took him to the doctor who could do nothing for us, since this was viral. He did however refer us to a kine-therapist (or physiotherapist in English) to do sessions of breathing treatments (which I later found out was called Chest Physiotherapy).
If you have never heard of this before. It is truly insane. The therapist basically pounds down on the baby's thorax to break up the mucus in the lungs. The pounding is so heavy, however, that you feel like your baby is going to snap in half.
It is truly one of the most horrific things I have ever seen. I had to turn away and finally leave the room. When the session was done, Noah was borderline blue and completely limp from the session.
I seriously could not comprehend how one earth that could possibly be helping him. Yet, here we are 7 sessions in and we can definitely see some improvements. He is breathing much better and his lungs are clear. He is sleeping through the night again and he is back to his happy go lucky self.
I know that these sessions defenitley helped him get rid of the things he couldn't get rid of himself. I am truly grateful that our pediatrician referred us rather than loading up Noah with drugs that wouldn't have done him any good.
I, however, will refrain from participating in any future sessions because my emotional well being cannot handle it. Luckily he is at an age where he won't remember a thing.
Doesn't he look cute waiting for session?