2011.11.08 Croupy Exposure

Being comfortably ensconced in the bosom of the middle class of Western Society, I'm not exposed to fear very often. My sensation-seeking habits are generally well-controlled and predictable, and the result of a cost-benefit analysis usually involving merely moderate adrenalin toxicity.

So when Simon had difficulty breathing due to laryngeal/tracheal constriction from croup, the icy fingers of fear clutching my heart were quite unfamiliar. Looking back, my ego is relieved that my fundamental expression of terror was held at bay - at least such that I could clearly and (mostly) calmly with the emergency advice nurse on the phone. I was far more relieved that S already knew exactly what to try, and that she confidently and competently whisked our son outside to revive in the cool, moist midnight air.

Objectively I realize that my superficial fright at my son's minor brush with a common and banal malady is really nothing. It's no big deal. But at midnight and blinking at his are-those-lips-blue? gasping, it felt really damn terrifying.

I just wanted to get that written down, while I could still remember it clearly, and before I downplayed it so successfully that I convinced myself it really was not one of the scariest flashes of immediate consequence consideration I've ever processed.