Although the emergency nebulizer breathing treatment was helping, it wasn’t enough. Cradling my child in my arms, I reached for the phone to call 9-1-1. The paramedics arrived and immediately took over, preparing to transport Douglas to the hospital. My husband, who had been called up from the military reserves to active duty, was leaving in the morning. Nevertheless, he insisted on riding to the hospital in the ambulance with our son. As the ambulance pulled away, I felt helpless and alone.

I was a mom in crisis mode - simultaneously pulling on clothes while making arrangements for our daughter to head over to a neighbor’s house. As I raced in our car down the deserted streets to the hospital, I was consumed with fear, guilt, and doubt. Had I done something wrong that contributed to my son’s condition? Was calling the paramedics the right thing to do? What if I overreacted? Why didn’t I see the warning signs of an impending attack? Will he be all right?

Thankfully, we did make the right decision, and the emergency room doctors were able to stabilize my son and release him after a few agonizing hours. The doctor, the nurses, and even the paramedics applauded our decision to seek emergency treatment - assuring us that calling 9-1-1 was the right thing to do. But the feelings of doubt still consumed me.

Then I recalled how a few months back I was with a neighbor whose daughter was in acute respiratory distress. It was clear to me she needed to call 9-1-1, but she wasn’t sure. She asked me the same "what if" questions. She did call the paramedics, and they were glad to be able to help. Suddenly, a light bulb went off in my head as I realized what I was feeling - the terror, the guilt, the doubt - were all normal reactions. I wasn’t alone.

As I tucked my son into bed after our trip to the hospital, I tiptoed across the street to retrieve my daughter. My neighbor answered the door and told me that while I was gone, my 7-year-old little girl was so upset from the night’s events that she crawled into bed with the neighbors and vomited all over them. I was mortified, but my neighbor said, "Don’t worry about it. I’m a mom too, you know."

I smiled and realized parents everywhere understand that dealing with sick kids is all part of the parenting package. But sometimes parents of children with chronic illnesses such as asthma get more than they bargained for. And it’s important to know when to reach out for help, especially in emergencies.

With more than twenty years experience as a paramedic, Running Springs, CA, Fire Department Engineer Scott Jasgur has responded to countless asthma emergencies. "Parents should remember that emergency personnel are trained and ready to respond when needed - that’s our job," he says. "If a parent thinks their child needs emergency help, they should trust their instincts. If a child has improved before we arrive, that’s wonderful, but if they don’t improve, you’ve saved precious moments by calling us."

Just as many families have emergency plans for earthquakes, tornadoes, and other natural disasters, Jasgur recommends families have emergency medical plans in place, including a written asthma management plan from their physician to share with emergency medical personnel.

Looking back, I no longer doubt my decision to reach out for help. As I carried my daughter back home and tucked both children back into bed, I felt a great sense of relief. The sun began to rise on a new day as I wandered toward my bedroom, stepping over my husband’s Army gear and duffel bag along the way. Collapsing into bed I took comfort in knowing that while he was going off to help in the war on terrorism, I was armed with the tools and support to fight the asthma war here at home - a battle our family is determined to win.

Reprinted from THE MA REPORT newsletter, February 2002. Article written by Debra Mendelsohn, AANMA Outreach Service Coordinator.