9 years ago, my son was due on my birthday: February 5th. While I was somewhat bummed about the prospect of sharing my birthday (I know that's shallow), I was excited because my son was coming. That is, until he came 2 weeks early: January 25th.
Fast forward 9 years to February 3rd:
Jack comes in and is concerned. There is a spot on his groin that "sizzles". I look at it and am quite concerned. There was a bump on his left side that looked like a pimple had burst and it was messy. I showed Jason and he said it looked like a stretch mark forming. When I got to my in laws, my father in law said whatever it was it was infected and Jack should go to the doctor. So I got him an appointment and my mother-in-law took him. She called as soon as the appointment was over with the news it was a staph infection (4 different spots) and that she was on her way to get the medicine. She then took him to lunch and gave him the first dose. He went to school and his teacher said that he'd been tired the rest of the day.
That night he took his hot bath and we attempted to drain the 3 areas that were already there (one area showed up later). One of the areas drained no problem, the other two didn't. We gave him his medicine and sent him to bed. 3 hours later he wakes up to use the restroom and complains that the sore "sizzles" worse. I look at him and the sore and discover a) he has a fever, b) the sore is bigger. His temperature measured 101.9! So the next day I called to make an appointment and took him in to see the doctor at noon. Upon seeing the infected area and the fact that it had tripled in size since the evening before, we were sent straight to the hospital.
After an afternoon in the hospital we were taken upstairs to a room in the children's wing. He was a trooper to say the least. While down in the ER, the Family Advisory Board person came in and gave Jack a stuffed iguana and me a packet of things that I might find handy. A note pad, pen, toothbrush, cleansing wipes, lotion, etc were just some of the items in the bag. At about 10:45 they got him prepped for surgery and we all went downstairs. Pa came to sit with us (Kirsten stayed) and we waited for the doctor to come out. It was hard leaving Jack in the Pre-op area. He had that look on his face that said, "It's okay mom. I'm okay." But he was clutching Spooky so tight that it looked like Spooky was some long lost Siamese twin attached to Jack at the face. About 30 minutes later here came the surgeon. Here's a summary of what he told me:
a) You've got one strong boy, b) the cavity was about the size of the doctor's fist, c) There was a lot of really gross stuff in the puss pocket, d) they sent the samples in for testing, e) they inserted 2 tubes to help with draining, f) depending on how Jack responded to treatment would determine when we could go home.
So at about 12:15 a.m. on February 5th, I went into recovery to be with Jack. We all went back up to his room about 12:30 a.m. and helped him settle in. It wasn't too long afterward that he was sound asleep and I settled in for the night.
As I fell asleep I thought: "It's taken you 9 years to get me in the hospital on my birthday."
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