The first night home after three great days away camping (where the kids were just as super as last year), I went to bed leaving daddy-o getting frustrated because his insomnia was rearing its ugly head. About 4:30 a.m. he heard one of the kids and thought Baby Girl was awake and goofing around. His first thought was to ignore her, but then figured she would wake her sister up. Only it was not Baby Girl, but Baby Boy in the next room who thrashing around and gasping for breath. Daddy-o woke me up and even with my sleep interrupted (not my best time of day), I got some supernatural calm and had the presence of mind to start his breathing treatments and call for an ambulance. My sleep-induced foggy mind did not allow me to think it was something very serious but decided to play it safe instead of driving baby boy myself to the ER. Best decision ever - by 5:00 a.m., baby boy was at the local emergency room in severe respitory distress. Somehow, my rational mind was asleep, because I bought the now not very believable reason the paramedics gave for why the ambulance had sirens and lights on. I also did not see through a nurse's attempts to distract me by asking me the same questions over and over as ten medical professionals worked on my son who was a code blue upon arrival. Words like intubation somehow did not penetrate my mind! The adrenaline did not start kicking in until all the action was over, the doctors had thanked us for bringing a little excitement to a slow night and they had told me how serious my son’s presenting condition was.
Baby boy earned himself a transfer to the ICU at our local children’s hospital and once again, he was such a marvelous patient. Even with an IV sticking out of his neck (they did not have the luxury of time in the ER to get one on his arm), he still charmed all the doctors and nurses. He was Mr. Cool and insisted on always wearing (and even sleeping with) his sunglasses and daddy’s hat. He is such a good patient – very forgiving even when the nurses and doctors kept prodding him and interrupting his sleep. He spent a week lapping up all the attention of either mom or dad, his visitors and was a favorite of the nurses and doctors. His beautiful smile and goofy get up of a hospital gown, hat and sunglasses bought him countless pictures from one of the nurses! After a week at the hospital, I am so happy to be back home, so thankful to God for watching out for Baby Boy and allowing for daddy-o’s insomnia that night and so happy to actually be able to talk to, play with and kiss the other kiddos instead of seeing them in passing on the drive home as we traded places daily with daddy-o. My heart really goes out to parents with hospitalized children and I would really want to find a way to minister to a mom or dad – hopefully from the outside and not the inside!