Sickness Hits Hard

Last Wednesday, October 17, Andrew woke up acting quite differently. Since July, he has been having periodic shaking and eye-rolling episodes. The “episodes” were on and off. Usually they occurred when he was really tired. They were completely unpredictable.

However, this particular morning was different. Andrew woke up having the shaking and eye-rolling episodes. Within the first hour I was with him, he had six such “episodes”. I called the doctor to report that something was very different and wrong with Andrew. The nurse asked, “Does he have a temperature?” No. “Does he have an appetite?” Yes. “Is he playing?” Yes. But I insisted there was something really wrong and different than the last few months. After consulting with Andrew’s doctor, the nurse called me back. She asked me to catch an episode on video and to make an appointment for a couple of days out.

I called her back about five minutes later. Andrew had crawled into my lap and was warm—with a 102° F temperature. It was strange! He had been fine minutes prior. The nurse consulted with the doctor, and since the doctor was headed out the door for lunch, she encouraged me to give him Tylenol and allow him to take his nap.

By then it was noon. So, I sat Andrew down at the table for Tylenol and some food. He began having his shaking and eye-rolling episodes. 3 minutes apart! I grabbed my camera and began to film. Within the first 20 seconds of filming, I had the episode on film.

I put Andrew to bed for his nap, and the nurse called me back around 2:30 p.m. Andrew was still sleeping, so she told me to simply “check him” when he woke up.

He had heard the phone ring and emerged from his room as I was hanging up the phone. Strangely enough, his fever was still at the same level. (I expected it to be gone after 2½ hours with Tylenol.)

I called the office back. (Yep, I’m one of those moms.) The nurse said, “Do you think he really needs to be seen today?” Yep! “Then, could you be here between 4:15 and 4:30?” YEP!

I called Derek and he was getting off work at 4 p.m. that day. He met us at the pediatrician’s office. After checking Andrew in, we sat in the waiting room and talked about what I thought Andrew might possibly have.

While we were talking, Andrew began screaming like he was looking at something immensely terrifying! The screaming grew louder as if horror was overcoming him. He was sitting in a chair, so I bent down in front of him to ask him what was wrong. His eyes rolled back and his body began shaking violently. I immediately knew he was having a seizure (his first).

I picked him up and was yelling for help. I’ll admit: I. was. terrified!!!!!!!!!

About seven nurses and office personnel came to usher us into a room—by that time Andrew was unconscious and blue. One of the nurses grabbed an oxygen tank at the same time Derek was yelling that Andrew was blue. Andrew’s doctor and the oxygen tank arrived at the same time.

One of the nurses took Andrew’s temperature and said it was 98.6° F. I was puzzled, as I had checked him before heading out to the doctor’s and it was still in the 102° area.

It took a while for Andrew to pull through from the seizure. He ended up with a 104° F temperature while in the office. Thus, the doctor thought it may have been a febrile seizure.

The doctor, however, requested to see my video—which I assumed was not necessary as we had all just witnessed what I had feared. After watching the 30 second video, the doctor said Andrew would have to undergo a sleep-deprived EEG to check for seizure disorders. He would be scheduled as soon as his fever was gone. (He still has a slight fever.)

She sent us home with the caution to keep an eye on him as he could seizure again in the night. She said to sleep close by or in his room.

That night Andrew’s fever went up to 106° F. Derek and I had to put him into the tepid bath. It was a long and nerve-wracking night.

Andrew continued to run very high fevers, and then he began to refuse food. All kinds. He can’t talk yet, so I couldn’t understand what was going on.

On Saturday, Cherish joined the “sick club”. Her fever went up to 105.3° that night, but it refused to come down. The same nurse from Wednesday was on call that night. She upped Cherish’s dosage of Tylenol and Motrin by ½ teaspoon—as Cherish’s weight was border-line.

Once again, we were on seizure-watch from the high temperatures. The night was only slightly rough. I was praising God!

By Sunday morning, Cherish was complaining of a sore throat. Then, I understood why Andrew was crying so much and refusing food.

By Monday morning, Cherish was refusing food and drink. I took her to the doctor’s. The poor girl has a mouth FULL of ulcers and a throat FULL of another kind of ulcers. Ulcers everywhere!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Andrew’s was the same.)

I spent Monday fighting dehydration knowing Cherish would be heading to the hospital if her current path continued. I learned about enemas (the only way to hydrate a person who cannot handle anything by mouth—which includes water, ice pops, etc. AIR ever hurts the ulcers!!!!!!!!)

So here I sit. Wednesday, 1 a.m. My daughter still cannot take anything in by mouth. Sadly, I have to be a bit forceful to get the Motrin in. It took us about an hour to get the last dose in. Thankfully, she washes down the Motrin with water (to wash the “sting” off the ulcers). That is all the liquids she is getting—other than a drip here and there when she needs to suppress a cough (both options are torturous for her).

Six nights now of barely any sleep. Often feeling like “zombie mommy”.

I pray continually for wisdom. I pray continually that my mouth would speak kindly. I pray that my mind would think thoughts that Jesus would think—especially when the crying goes on and on. I pray that my will would be yielded to the Spirit’s leading. I pray that my heart would only feel love, compassion, and understanding.

All this, moment by moment. Day and night. It’s all I can do. Without the Holy Spirit, this sleep deprived momma would be making this terrible illness (which the doctor thinks may be Roseola) worse.

I have to pray continually. In the middle of the night when all my aching body wants to do is to stay lying on the couch as another child cries out for my attention.

There are times I fail. But, I have seen time and time again when I didn’t have the energy to move, that as my heart prayed for Christ-likeness, my body moved in the direction Jesus would have moved. My mouth spoke words of comfort and kindness when I had nothing left to give. My heart felt compassion and pity when seconds prior I felt angry that the crying was unrelenting.

My prayer has been that through these long days and nights, my children would be experiencing Jesus with skin on. That in their torture, they would find comfort, understanding, and love.

So, I pray now as I lie down on the couch with my daughter tucked in next to me. May Jesus be on display if in five minutes my daughter once again awakens shaking with unbelievable pain.

May I be like Jesus to these precious children. And, may He heal them quickly if He so chooses.

Julie, the flawed one