During this time, I kept Cherish, Andrew, and Matthew on the couch, as they were the sickest, and I needed to be able to administer their medicines multiple times during the night.
On Saturday night, February 9th, after Matthew's fever had gone away, I began doing my rounds, checking on the children before bed. It was around 11:30 p.m. and Matthew had woken up and was vomiting. Without noise. Andrew--who was awake from being ill--called for me.
Matthew's eyes were open, but without noise or jerking, he was throwing up. He was on his back, so I turned him to his side.
I ran for towels.
I came back to see him staring at me, and I tried to scoop up some of the vomit with the towels. He began throwing up again, without any flinching. He was eerily still and staring at me. I stood up--trying not to vomit myself--and ran to begin filling the tub with soapy water.
I ran back while hoping he had finished vomiting, so I could scoop him up and take him to the tub.
He was still looking at me. I began to scoop him up, and he began throwing up again. My stomach was too queasy.
I called for Derek to scoop him up and bring him to the tub. Derek had a hard time holding him without getting sick himself, so together, we carried him to the tub. I stood him up in the tub, since he was covered in vomit, and began taking off his clothes (while Derek began cleaning up his bedding).
When I took off Matthew's diaper, he was having diarrhea as well. He collapsed in the tub, and I could hardly hold his head up as I was also trying to clean him up.
I began draining the tub to clean it out and to get fresh water for Matthew.
Matthew indicated he wanted to lie down in the tub, and since there was hardly any water in the tub, I let him lie down on his back.
His eyes rolled backward.
I put a hand towel over his body, and turned on the shower head of the tub. I had to rinse out the tub, even though I knew Matthew HATES the shower-head hose being turned on. (He is scared of it.)
Fully expecting him to start screaming from the shower hose being turned on, I turned to look at him. The only part of his eyes I could see was the white of his eyes.
I began asking him if he was okay. He did not respond. I began rubbing his skin and spraying his hair and body to get the vomit off--expecting Matthew to scream. He neither screamed nor flinched.
I kept asking: "Matthew, are you OK? Matthew! Can you hear me?" He would not respond.
I yelled: "Matthew can you hear you me?" His eyes would roll back to normal position, he would grunt in response, and then his eyes would roll right back again.
This happened several times as I watched his body drain of all color.
He looked as if he was dead.
My first thought was: "I need to call rescue!" While the answer within me was instantaneous: "Not until you call on the Great Physician."
I did just that. I began praying over him in the name of Jesus Christ, asking Him to heal Matthew.
Color began coming back into his body.
As I continued to pray, I finished cleaning him up and scooped him up out of the tub.
I dressed him while he remained asleep, and I stayed with him though the night.
This picture was taken of Matthew. this morning.
Thank You, Jesus, for healing Matthew of whatever was ailing him!!!!!!
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