Sometimes

My phone buzzed next to me--vibrating the whole desk. I was settling after a couple of meetings and getting ready to tackle my to-do list. I looked down at the phone--it was Isaiah's school. I debated not answering it. I thought it might be a mass message about the holiday event this weekend. The phone buzzed again. It was the middle of the day. The school usually didn't send mass messages until the evening.

On the third ring, I answered.

The school medication monitor had Isaiah in the clinic. His tongue was swollen and he was having trouble breathing. I asked to talk to Isaiah. When he got on the phone, I couldn't understand a word he was saying. I asked if he was okay going to the hospital in an ambulance. And I heard him start to panic. Knowing that crying and shortness of breath are a bad thing for a swollen tongue and closing off throat, I implored him to calm down. I asked again if he would go with the EMTs when they got there.

He said no. He wanted to wait for me.

I work 40 minutes away from his school.

So, I told the woman managing the clinic to call the ambulance anyway. That I was on my way and could easily reroute if he needed to go to the ER. Then, I found my boss, explained that I needed to go, threw together my things, and headed toward his school.

On the way, I tried to call Tim. He was asleep. So, I called my mom. She was at the house taking care of Esther-Faith while Tim slept. Crying, I asked her to wake him up and tell him what was going on. He got up, went into the bathroom and started getting ready--expecting to meet us as the hospital.

Once he was awake enough to get the message from my mom that Isaiah didn't want to ride in the ambulance, he called the school to make sure they knew that they had our permission to let the paramedics take him to Children's Hospital if it was necessary.

Tim talked to the paramedics while they were treating Isaiah. I was saying things to my mom. She was relaying them to Tim. And he to her. And back to me.

Thank goodness for my mom. She managed to get me to calm down, relayed messages to Tim, and fed Esther-Faith her lunch all at the same time. I think she even managed to get a message to my dad so he could start to pray for his oldest grandson.

On the way to the school, I stayed on the phone with Tim the entire time. He was privy to my griping about how--two turns from the school--I happened to get behind the slowest driver ever to be granted a driver's license. And just as I was about to turn onto the road the school is on, an ambulance came tearing down the road, turned aggressively onto the road I was on, and tore towards the highway.

I nearly turned my car around to follow it.

The panic bubbled to the surface again as Tim instructed me to drive the final mile to the school. Once I arrived, I noticed that an ambulance still sat in the parking lot with its lights on. So, I found a parking spot and hurried into the school.

Isaiah's version of what happened when I got to the school might be different than mine, but this is my blog. He was disoriented anyway. And I'm telling the story...

Once I made it to the clinic, I noticed three paramedics, Isaiah's ED teacher, the medication monitor, and the vice principal all surrounding my boy as he lay on a bed in the clinic. I did not make eye contact with any of them as I made a beeline towards my boy.

It was all I could do to hold it together.

Isaiah, too.

He would tell me later that he was pretty calm until he saw me. That once he realized that I was there to take care of him, he allowed himself to feel as scared as he was.

I rubbed my hand on his forehead, leaned over and kissed his face, touched his arm, and just took in the sight of him. Then, I turned toward the paramedic who explained that Isaiah was a very healthy teenager. That there didn't seem to be anything wrong with him.

Isaiah's teacher touched my arm and softly said that there was something wrong. I looked back to my boy. His eyelids were droopy. He seemed pale. His whole mouth was swollen and he was having trouble closing it. And I couldn't understand him. The paramedics had me sign their computer so they could get back to work. The vice principal went to his locker to collect his things. Isaiah was released to go, but he was obviously miserable and something was wrong.

Isaiah and I loaded into the car while I called Tim. There was no way I was going to take him home without him seeing a doctor. So, we headed to the closest urgent care. They took him right away because he was having so much trouble breathing.

In the whirlwind of paperwork and questions, Isaiah was diagnosed with a severe allergic reaction. To what, we don't know, but it was bad. He was given a shot in his haunches and instructed to walk around so the medicine could work. I think the shot was as painful as anything else.

After a while, he was given a heavy dose of benedryl. And then he was in "observation." By the time we made it home a couple of hours later, his tongue was about half the size it was when I picked him up from school, his speech was greatly improved, and he reported that the tightness in his throat was much better.

Now, he is relaxing and reading a book. Recovering. Feeling tired from the medication. And grateful to be home. He's going to continue with a couple more doses of medication tonight and tomorrow morning. In the coming weeks, we have to determine what caused the reaction. He hasn't eaten anything unusual--at least he hadn't eaten anything that he hasn't had 100 times before.

I told him to have his "special friend" switch her lip gloss for a while. Just to be sure.

He smiled and stuck his nose back into his book.

Sometimes, the best moments come at the worst times.

After the initial shot in trauma room six, Isaiah was instructed to walk around by the nurse. I could tell that he was in a great deal of pain. I linked my arm into his and walked in circles with him until the stinging subsided. I had lots of opportunities to show him how much I love him. Stroking his hair. Kissing his forehead. Calming him down when he got scared. Hugging him. All the things he doesn't allow much of these days. But he was scared. And I was there.

Sometimes, blessings come in the most interesting packages, and good comes from difficult situations.

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"Be strong and take heart, all you who hope in the Lord." Psalm 31:24

Jesse Tree, Day Nine

Second Monday in Advent 

Readings: Genesis 37:1-4

"O God, help us to live together in peace. As we look for good in situations that seem hopeless, show us you are working things out for our good. Amen." by Marilyn S. Breckenridge