****In an effort to help try this sound not as dramatic as it will. (And it will) I will preface this by saying he is fine...and was back to throwing things today and telling me he 'hated' me when I told him he HAD to take a nap today. (Just so you know...)****
So, J-dawg (and I) both started not to feel the greatest on Friday afternoonish. He was fine on Saturday...not 100% but no worse. Sunday morning, I woke up with a fever, and by Sunday afternoon little man had a fever of his own...and was starting to cough. So I sent the kiddos to bed early with medicine in his tummy. I, on the other hand had chills and the blasted fever that would go and then come back...go and come back. I couldn't sleep either.
Long about 2:30 a.m. I awake to hear this awful sound. When I first heard it, I thought, "What are the kids doing up watching television at this hour?!" It sounded just like the tv was on...so weird. Well, I get out of bed, and realize no lights are on...and that the sound I am hearing is J-Man wheezing in his bed. It is then I realize, okay he must have croup. So I sit him up, rub his back...ask him to cough...try to get his breathing back to normal, which I do. He really wants nothing to do with me but SLEEP...so I let him go back to bed. (I am still shivering with chills and my fever at this time.) I grab Memms from her bed and take her to my room, send Hubbs back to sleep with Jothan with the window open...praying that the sub-zero temps help the swollen throat he obviously has.
Fast forward to 4:00 a.m. I am awakened by Hubbs, "Kimmie! Come sit with Jothan!" I run into the bathroom...half delirious myself, to my little boy barely getting any air into his little body. He was limp, and coughing and convulsing (not literally...but that motion) trying desperately to get air through his swollen throat. I run to get him some cold water...he barely can get any through, I fear that he will inhale it because he can't even relax enough to try not to breath in at the same time as he drinks...I couldn't get him to settle down. I was just holding him and stroking his little back. Flavio and I wrapped him in a blanket and took him outside. As I walked back down the hallway to our room...BAM! I hit the floor. (Fever, my son can't breathe...I am obviously thinking the worst...PANIC ATTACK?!) As I am coming out of my passed out state, I hear little Memm on my bed:
"Momma, is "Dawson" going to die?"
"NO MEMM! He is not going to die!" (I'll be damned if that was going to happen to me...not that! NOT!" I storm to the front door...and tell Hubbs, "Take him to the ER...NOW!" (My husband is WAY faster than any ambulance I know of...and they were to the hospital in less than ten minutes.)
So they get to the new hospital in town...you know that one...if you live here you do...and they immediately pump him up on some steroids and get him on some oxygen.
Well, sometime in the first thirty minutes he got there, someone thought of the brilliant idea that J-Man needed to be moved up to Primary Children's Medical Center. So, Hubbs calls me after they begin taking him away....
Hubbs: "So they are moving him to PCMC."
Me: "Is he that bad?!"
Hubbs: "Well, the doctor up there wants to see him."
Me: "So, they are letting you drive him then right?"
Hubbs: "No...they are transporting him."
Me: "Will you ride with him in the ambulance?"
Hubbs: "Um, not exactly...see they are taking him in the helicopter."
Me: "Are you SERIOUS."
Okay...so remember how I had passed out thinking that my son was going to die in my arms because I couldn't help him, and somewhere in the back of my mind I thought he could very well not make it through this...then my Hubby tells me they are LIFE FLIGHTING him up to the children's hospital...throw all sanity out of my fevered mind at that point.
So, Memms and I...awake since early in the morn, are sitting on the couch watching all sorts of public television, when about ten minutes later I get a call from Hubbs, J-Man is okay...they are watching him in the PICU. "What?" The I-C-U. Dood!
Long story short...he is fine. Really, he is. We really aren't sure why he had to be Life Flown...only to be released 12 hours later...thankfully we do know he is okay! He is well, he was a pissy, pissy boy today, but he is alive!
The entire day today I just kept going over how he looked in the bathroom, how we must have felt, how frightened I was that I might lose him. I am reminded of what a gift he is to me. How special and intelligent his heart and mind. How much I would be lost without him.
The Spirit was totally keeping me awake on Sunday night/Monday morning. I wanted nothing more than to SLEEP and rest...but I needed to be the one to hear him wake up that first time...I hate to think what may have happened had Hubby not been laying right next to him when things went from bad to hell.
I am beginning to forget what a normal day/week/month may look like in our house...I sure as heck hope these kinds of things are not the new norm.