There’s no place like home.
Dang. Said it three times and it still didn’t work. I’m still sitting here, at my impromptu desk on third floor of the hospital. I remember not-so-long ago when this seemed like home. But it’s been a long time since then, almost two years, I think.
For those new to the blog, my youngest son (he’s referred to as “George” on here) has a metabolic disorder. It’s called ornithine transcarbamylase deficiency, and if you want to read up about it, and George, knock yourself out. There’s a whole tab up on the top there. (And yes, spell check, I have spelled it right. Trust me.)
George’s condition makes him more susceptible to illness. But we have had a long run of good luck, and his immune system has bounced back amazingly. We haven’t had to deal with a hospital-stay-inducing illness in quite some time.
That was, until about midnight last night.
It started with a cough, followed by a sound that would wake the most sound sleeper from the deepest of sleeps…the sound of a child projectile vomiting down a flight of stairs.
George after getting settled in for what was supposed to be a simple bolus of fluids. Someday I’ll learn. 😉
Needless to say, my night was short, and I ended up bringing George down to his pediatrician after the other boys got on the bus. We stopped up at the hospital for a round of fluids, and were about to disconnect the IV to head home when I noticed a change.
George’s cheeks were flush, he was no longer talking or playing and he started to get “that” look. He was now running a fever.
When he gives me this face, he could ask for the world and I would readily give it to him. (As if I wouldn’t anyway.)
I was given the option to stick around for the evening, or take him home and see how the night went. I thought about it for a few minutes, and then when George asked to go to the bathroom, he had a dizzy spell coming back to bed. My mind was decided for me, we were sticking it out.
And so, here I am, after midnight. I’ve been awake about 24 hours, give or take a few minutes here or there…and yet, I cannot sleep. I watch him like a hawk, listen for his IV pump, hold my breath when he coughs, all those things that a parent does for their child.
Yet, as tired as I am, I know one thing: I am blessed.
And that’s all I need to know.
This is the George that I can’t wait to get back.
I’ll update in the morning about George’s progress and our (hopeful) discharge home. Fingers crossed for a peaceful night…well, what’s left of it.
3:46 p.m. – Heading home! YAY!
I love the holidays. And I plan to do my part to spread some cheer. For those that haven’t participated before, here’s how it all started.
Wag'n Tales 