ROSCOE, the 13-year-old, gave me the fright of my life last week. Or, to be more accurate, he gave me an additional fright to add to all of the others.

This is the third time I’ve had a nail-biting journey to hospital with him in an ambulance, complete with flashing lights and siren. This boy does not do things by halves.

Thankfully, after three days in hospital, he is now home having made a good recovery from a severe and sudden asthma attack that left him barely able to breathe.

He was previously rushed to hospital after nearly drowning when caught in a rip tide while bodyboarding.

Before that, he ended up in Accident and Emergency after jumping out of his bedroom window while sleepwalking.

He also has to carry an epipen adrenaline injection with him at all times as he suffers from a life-threatening allergy to bee and wasp stings.

I cannot decide if he is a particularly unfortunate child, prone to accident and disaster or, in fact, one of the luckiest boys in Britain, enjoying a charmed existence. For Roscoe bounces back from everything life has thrown at him, relatively unscathed and always with a smile on his face.

He was lucky again on Wednesday morning. This was a serious asthma attack that seemed to come out of nowhere. Having suffered a relatively minor bout of asthma once, four years ago, we knew he had to take his blue reliever inhaler when he was a little wheezy on Tuesday night, after developing a cold.

HE took his inhaler again a few times through the night but by morning the wheeze was much worse. I phoned our GPs’ surgery first thing and arranged to see a doctor in about two hours’ time.

But Roscoe’s condition suddenly started to deteriorate. He struggled to get upstairs and turned pale. I drove him straight to the surgery. By the time I got there, he was paler still, almost grey, and could barely speak.

The doctor saw him immediately and acted quickly and efficiently.

Having ascertained that Roscoe’s oxygen levels were at 88 per cent) we have since discovered anything below 90 per cent could lead to “life-threatening” complications) he hooked him up to an oxygen tank and administered asthma medication, which Roscoe inhaled through his face mask via a nebuliser. He also called for an ambulance.

Because the doctor could barely hear any air in Roscoe’s left lung, he organised an X-ray too as a perforated or collapsed lung can be a complication of asthma.

Luckily for us, perhaps, this GP, who was careful to reassure us both while explaining exactly what he was doing and why, happened to have a particular interest in asthma.

We were in good hands when we got to Harrogate hospital too. Once we clarified Roscoe’s lung wasn’t perforated, he was put on a ward, still constantly on oxygen and with medication administered through the nebuliser. He had already been given a dose of strong steroids at our GPs’ surgery.

But there was now concern he wasn’t responding to the treatment as he should. Every time his mask was taken off, his oxygen level dropped again.

He was put on an intravenous drip, administering an even stronger medication, aminophylline, and moved to a room on his own, where he was constantly monitored.

There followed the longest night of my life. Roscoe still wasn’t responding as he should. When his oxygen mask slipped off at one point, his saturation levels dipped to 89 per cent.

Then, at around 2am he had to have an echocardiograph as he had started to develop a pain in his left arm, alongside a consistently high heart rate. Thankfully, all was fine.

By the time morning came, there was a small improvement. Slowly and steadily his readings improved throughout the day until he was able to go without his oxygen mask and then the drip in the afternoon.

Eventually, we got home. Roscoe has to take his brown preventer inhaler, which contains steroids to reduce inflammation in the airways, every morning and night. Hopefully this will keep his lungs clear and prevent an attack being triggered. He is taking his blue reliever inhaler, which contains beta-agonist medication to relax muscles and open the airways, when he feels wheezy.

After what he has been through, most adults would probably take to their beds for a week. But Roscoe is his usual smiley, positive self and can’t wait to get back to normal. We had to work hard to persuade him he shouldn’t go back to school on Monday.

Asthma is a relatively common condition. As Roscoe’s asthma nurse told him, sports stars like David Beckham and Frank Lampard suffer from it. You can lead a fit and active life when it is properly managed and controlled.

But it can also be fatal. I, like many people, was probably guilty of not taking asthma as seriously as I should have. That won’t happen next time.

As I say, once again, we got lucky.

ROSCOE would like to point out that he was clutching onto a small white towel in the doctor’s surgery, in the ambulance and when he first arrived at hospital only because we had grabbed it from the downstairs toilet on our way to the doctor’s as a precaution as he had been sick twice at home.

Roscoe, 13, was horrified to hear later that one of the paramedics asked where he should put his “comfort blanket”.

asthma.org.uk