Please, just take the medicine

My 7 yr. old son has asthma. Every once in a while this leads to prolonged periods of coughing. We don’t have a primary care doctor following his condition, so when it gets bad enough, we go to the urgent care. And that’s where we were about 8.30 last night. It actually was a pretty good experience, no waiting, efficient staff, nice young doctor, prescription for advair, and on our way to the 24 hour pharmacy for a $200.00 puffer full of medication.

So far, so good. An hour later we are at home and ready to give the med to our sleepy boy. Now if Ben was an experienced asthma person he would be experienced with puffing in nasty tasting stuff in order to feel better, but he isn’t. For whatever reason, the entire process went way south. Screaming ensued. Tears abounded. Meltdown after meltdown and no medicine reached Ben’s lungs.

Upset and very sad the entire family gave up and went to bed. I really wish that Ben had just accepted that nasty tasting stuff is the path to better breathing. He didn’t last night and I don’t expect much change this morning. Maybe when he is a little older he will be willing to puff some nasty stuff in order to calm the symptoms of his condition.

There is a lesson in here somewhere I think. From a father’s viewpoint, all I want is for Ben to be healthy and not in distress. The medicine for that is available, only a simple breath away. But one whiff of a nasty taste has put him off the path to health. “I’ll never take that medicine,” he shouted, and at that point I was at a complete loss. I did my best to calm him down. I tried to explain how the medicine worked and how important it was for him to experience just a moment of discomfort in order to be better. These rational explanations did not work. I held him and told him I loved him. I prayed with him. Still, no dose of medicine.

All I could do finally, was be there with him, and love him.