911

Finally getting the chance to process the past few days. Sometimes I have nightmares where I'm in an emergency and I'm unable to dial 911. Either I get the number wrong, my phone dies, something always happens. I've never had to dial 911 (thankfully) until this weekend. I never thought it would be for my own child.

Its all started Sunday morning, we packed up and headed to church for Sunday school. We usually let Carsten run around to get some energy out before the service, so he ran around church like any other day, feeling good, looking good. About the time the service started, I picked him up and he felt warm. I knew there was a cold going around so we left for home so we could get him down for a nap and sleep off whatever he may have. his fever was about 101 at that point so gave him some tylenol thinking it would be done and over with. He's been hitting a growth spurt and been pretty sleepy the past week, so I shrugged it off as growing pains. After only sleeping an hour, he woke up miserable. He didn't want to eat and only wanted to lay with me on the couch and sleep. I knew then that something wasn't right. Carsten usually won't sit longer than a minute on the couch, today he slept for hours. As the day continued, he got weaker and refused to walk. He sat or laid on the floor most of the afternoon. His fever continued to rise to 102.5. I told Chris that 103 was the magic number and we would be taking him to the hospital. Around bed time, we put him in his crib and around 20 minutes later he started screaming. It wasn't a scream he would normally make, so I ran to his room thinking maybe he threw up. He was laying very still in his bed, crying. I think he may have had a seizure at that point, but I'm not certain. He started to have the shakes a little bit, similar to what happens before you throw up. So we sat on the kitchen floor, waiting for something to happen. After a while, he calmed down and we fell asleep on my chest on the couch. Maybe an hour later, he started screaming again. I brought him into our room and he slept on Chris for maybe 30 minutes and woke up screaming again. Chris laid him on the bed and immediately I knew something wasn't right. He closed his eyes as his arms and legs started to violently shake. Chris laid him on the bathroom floor and I knew what was happening. "Turn him on his side, I'm calling 911!" I yelled to Chris. Thankfully, I was able to dial despite the fact I was panicking. I watched my little boy shake and jerk uncontrollably on the floor of the bathroom for about 2 1/2 minutes while the 911 operated asked questions. All I kept thinking was that he would have some kind of brain damage, be paralyzed or never wake up. Thankfully he was still breathing, but unconscious and vomiting. This was the day I knew that living 200 yards from the fire station paid off. I ran around gathering things and getting dressed so I was ready to go the hospital. Police officers showed up first, then firefighters, then paramedics. All in all about probably 8 people stood in my house and watched my son slowly fall asleep on the floor and moan in between breaths after an exhausting few minutes. I was trying desperately to speak to the paramedics and remember all the information they needed to know. I was fighting tears and trying to stay calm. Paramedics picked him up and loaded him into the truck. It was a cold night and he was only wearing a tshirt and diaper, so I was feeling a little guilty when we left. I got in the ambulance and Chris followed in the van. Chris' mom stayed back with the other too.

After about 5 minutes into the ride, Carsten finally woke up. I will never forget the way his face looks. He was so confused and scared. I tried to calm him and talk to him while the paramedic started poking fingers, giving oxygen, and hooking up monitors to check his pulse and oxygen level. Carsten and I had a major connection during that 15 minute ride. He had no words, he couldn't move and all he could do was lock eyes with me. He continued to moan and cry but never took his eyes off me. All I wanted to do was sob, but I knew that would scare him more. We got to the hospital with nurses and doctors waiting for him. I kept hearing them say how cute he was, and I was honestly a little upset because in that moment and I didn't care how cute he was, I just needed to know that he was okay. We met with the on call doctor and she told us he would need an IV because he was dehydrated from the fever which was now at 103. They left the room and Carsten fell asleep on my chest. Chris had arrived and came in and hugged me. I finally broke down. I sobbed and cried. That was possibly the scariest thing I had ever seen. There was nothing I could do for him. He was helpless and scared.

Once the nurse came back in to drawn blood and start the IV, I knew I had to leave the room and let Chris take over. I need to compose myself, take a breath and make some phone calls. It was about midnight and I had family up praying most of the night for him. I went back in a few minutes later. He had the IV in and they took the necessary blood to run tests. I got back in bed with him and he slept some more. I tried to close my eyes and rest but I was too worked up. We sat and waited for probably an hour for the results. His blood work came back fine, so they wanted to do a chest xray. After that traumatizing experience, they still weren't sure what was causing the fever. They thought maybe pneumonia or bladder infection. So they gave him some antibiotics through the IV and hoped it would kill any infection he had. We were finally released around 3:30. We got home and put him to bed around 4. I was so happy to be in my bed, mostly because I was exhausted physically and emotionally, but also because I knew my boy was asleep in his bed. He woke up around 8 with a little bit of a fever still, but after a long nap on the couch, he was feeling better. He finally ate some food and looked good. We took a trip to the doctor to follow up and get more antibiotics. Carsten slept the rest of the afternoon until 5:30 when I woke him up for dinner. His fever spiked to almost 105, but after pumping him with his meds, its quickly came down to 101. Thank goodness.

So, this morning he is doing great. He's back to his normal self. He's still tired he's eating and playing ;) I'm so glad this was only a minor incident, but it was incredibly scary. I'm so thankfully for the dozens of people praying for him this weekend. It was strengthening for me because I could barely get prayers out of my mouth.

I can't help but feel so bad for Carsten. He's struggled from the beginning. From months of treating clubfoot, to sickness after sickness, but he IS a strong boy. Even more so now. I remember sitting in the hospital when Chris said this was the day Carsten became a "dude." I'm not sure what that meant, but I think it means that Carsten had come through a lot that day and his daddy was proud of him :) If so, I agree. I think we all earned our "DUDE" badge that day.