Jack had a light fever, and a tummy-ache, off and on since Friday. Nothing serious. He also has a tiny patch of staph or some other skin infection on his butt and we've been treating that with topical antibiotics. Yesterday, though, after a rare nap, he woke up crying, burning-up, with a horrible headache. I grabbed Motrin, Jack, my purse, and drove straight to the Embassy doctor. We ended up going directly from there to the hospital at my insistence. The combination of the staph on his butt and now a fever with bad headache; I wasn't taking any chances. While we were at the Embassy Jack managed to throw up all over both of us, so we headed to the hospital in funky style.
The Motrin I'd been able to get down on the way to the embassy calmed him down a bit; he lay listlessly in my arms all the way through downtown to the Hospital Nacional. They treated us very nicely and explained that they wanted to do an IV to give him fever meds. I broke the news to Jack who is not a fan of shots, and tends to worry about them even when we're at home, randomly asking "I don't need any shots today right Mama?"
When I told him he was going to have one big shot that would stay in his hand, he started sobbing. I think it hurt me worse than it hurt him. I told him that it would hurt, and that stinks, but that it would mean no more shots all day. That I'd never lie to him and that we'd be right there with him. While we waited, he would work himself up to crying, and I'd talk about how it would hurt but not for too long, then I'd distract him and the cycle repeated 3 or 4 times. Finally it was time for the big IV.
Jack was laying on his side, I stood in front of him, Stewart behind. I was determined to keep him from moving to make sure they didn't have to do it 2 or 3 times. We cradled him hard against the table, and the tech talked to Jack about not moving his hand. It was the only part of him that we couldn't hold still; Jack would have to do that part himself. The tech got ready to go, and I looked down to see my four year old baby start taking deep breaths. Deep breaths. He was steadying himself. I still barely believe it. And then it was in, and Jack hadn't made a peep. I didn't know it was done until Stewart said "great job!" Jack never cried, never yelled, never whined. He steadied himself and faced it down like a gosh-darn stud. That boy is something...someone I could never have anticipated. I'm in awe of my kid.
The medicine flowed, order was restored, and Jack got a little loopy and giggly. We were together for hours, holding hands, joking around, whispering about plans for a big trip to Africa on his 21st birthday. He is the steadiest, most contented, enthusiastic, hard-working, sweet, funny, sassy child in the world.
And where was Nate in all of this? I had no way to get word to him, so Celia met his bus and found a home for him across the street with Stacey. He didn't know we wouldn't be home until after 9, so he just went with the flow and let them give him dinner (which he didn't eat because he was confused), get him in pjs, teeth brushed. I picked him up, brought him home, and all 3 of us got in my big hot-tub-bathtub and soaked the day off. And the puke in my hair, we definitely soaked that off too. It was heavenly.
Kids to bed, and then I decided Jack probably had meningitis and stayed up until 2 am checking him every 15 minutes and using my iPhone to scan his body for the start of a rash. At 2 I woke Stewart up, ordered him to keep doing what I was doing, and slept for a few hours next to Jack. I woke up to Nate, my pride, saying "Mom, I did as much as I could by myself, can you just do my sunscreen?" He was fully dressed in his uniform, shoes on, breakfast eaten. I did his sunscreen and literally staggered back to bed. He waited outside by himself for the bus and headed to school.
And now he has what Jack had, though we won't be heading anywhere for an IV. Jack is 100% restored. I revel in these boys. I can't get enough of watching them grow. I am grateful beyond words for both of them. Amazing life.
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