Shortly after starting child care Camden, who used to take his treatments like a total champ suddenly decided he was done. No nebs. Uh uh, now way ho how. We'd get him started but as soon as we'd start the nebs this kid could wield karate choppers with stunning speed and accuracy. The karate kid has nothing on Camden. Seriously, our kid's a ninja.
This went on for a while and we tried all of the advice out there: explain what you're doing - yeah, I think he's got that part down since he's been doing this, oh, since BIRTH, distract him with toys, books or games - um sure, if he could hear us over screams louder than a Harrier jet that might be possible, just hold it over his nose without touching his face - easier said than done when his head's spinning around Exorsist-style. And when all else fails hold him down and force him to take the treatment. It was this method that finally worked.
While it broke my heart to hold him while he strugged with all of his might, I realized that this is all part of the toddler experience. He's starting to test boundaries and it's up to us to keep him safe and healthy - just like any kid, CF or not. And though it is difficult for me, because I know it's not fair for him to have to deal with this and in a way I feel he's justified to kick and scream, I know it's for the best. Some day he'll understand why it's so important to do his treatments. In the meantime it's up to us to make it as pleasant as possible.
Luckily laying down the law was the trick and after a few traumatic episodes he's denounced his Karate Kid ways and is back tolerating the treatments just fine. At least until the sequel, which hopefully is like most sequels - pretty weak.
kirk's note: He's also now holding the nebulizer cup for us while we do treatments which makes it 100x easier to read a book!

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