Goodbye 2017 – The final chapter.
All of my major health concerns were one by one, being checked off the threat list. Although I was still feeling apprehensive with what was still going on inside of me, I felt a little more content knowing these tests were all coming back ok. Just when I was about to come to acceptance with the fact that I most likely was experiencing anxiety for the first time, my biggest dark day would hit me harder than all the rest.
It was March, and we were in the midst of winter and sick season. Suddenly Coben, one of the twins, became ill. I took him into the ER to find out that he had strep throat. They prescribed him amoxicillin, and we were on our way home. I gave him the full two weeks of medicine, and he started to improve. It was about the second day after we had finished the medicine, that he suddenly woke up in the middle of the night, in a fit of loud cries.
I ran to his room trying to console him, and figure out what was wrong. I didn’t see anything firsthand. Then, I noticed him starting to itch aggressively at his pj’s. I turned the lights on, and opened them up, to find his body covered in hives. I rushed him back into the ER, and by the time the doctor seen him, the hives had subsided substantially. He advised us to go home, keep an eye on it, and treat with Benadryl.
The next morning upon waking, he looked horrendous! He was starting to re-develop the rash and now it was spreading all over his body. I took him back in, as I had given him Benadryl and it should have kicked in. They couldn’t believe how terrible he looked. His face was now swollen and red. They then administered a steroid shot, hoping it would be more powerful than the Benadryl. They talked to me, and felt he could very well be having an allergic reaction to the amoxicillin. They said we’d treat it aggressively with continued steroids at home. They wrote me a prescription, and off we were sent.
The following morning, he was at his all time worse. The hives were literally everywhere, and he was so swollen and lethargic. Next, he started vomiting. I knew right then and there, something was very wrong! I tried calling the ER and no one would help me over the phone. I called my doctor, and she said very sternly, to get our butts back into the ER. The hours from here on out would become some of the longest ones of my life.
Once he got settled in, the doctor immediately ran many tests. They pounded him with heavy doses of steroids and other allergic reaction medicines. We sat there for several hours, uncertain of what was going on, and if he was ok. The doctor came in after many of the test had ran through, and told us this was a serious case, and they did not have the facility to accommodate such. We would be transported to a large children’s hospital, instead. My heart sunk.
We got to the children’s hospital late at night, it was nearly 9 pm, and I was drowning from adrenaline hype and fatigue from the previous days before. We were immediately greeted by two doctors who sat down with us to discuss his case. They decided to continue hitting him with benadryl and steroids, vigirously. They prepared us, and told us it would get worse before it got better. Then showed us a few different rash type cases they thought it could be.
It was the first full day in, now my birthday, and he wasn’t getting any better. I watched him as his crawled in his own skin from the severe itch and burning it created. I started noticing and picking up on things that didn’t seem right. Such as, every time he was administered benadryl, he’d react the worse. Crying in pain, becoming more inflamed and hiving out of control. He was barely coherent, and I asked to see a doctor. The nurse sat and fought with me, telling me the previous doctors warned us of this situation. I was pissed. This was MY child! HIS life was on the line. I was damned if I was going to take “NO” for an answer. I demanded he get a doctor to see him ASAP. As my husband and I waited in uncertainty, the worse was about to come.
For those who don’t know, my husband is a registered nurse, and takes care of critically ill patients for a living. The whole time he watched his heart monitor closely, as it sat close on the line of being too high. The heart monitor went off, his heart rate was spiking out of control. My husband fled for help and I knew things were not good. I sat there grasping my baby in my arms. He was like a limp noodle, and starting to turn blue. I squeezed him, as the tears just rolled down my face. I whispered in his ear and said: “Don’t you leave me! You hear me! You fight and you hang on, ok?” He had just enough energy left to squeeze his little hands around my neck, and nod his head. I sat there and thought this could be it. I may just loose my baby right here.
By the time the doctor came to our room, his heart rate settled back down – it was nearly 15 minutes later. My mom instincts were loud, and I demanded that they listen to me, as they hadn’t listened to me all along. I said no more meds. Don’t give him another Benadryl or anything else for that matter. His body is not getting better, and clearly cannot continue fighting. They had no choice but to listen. I went to bed hugging him tightly to my side, and praying so hard that he would be ok through the night.
By the next morning, a miracle would come to us. His skin was starting to clear! The hives and swelling were coming down considerably. I thanked God, yet again. He continued to improve, and by day four, we were released back home. He was labeled highly allergic to all cillian meds, as well as Benadryl. I was never so happy to see my boy live and well.
That experience was the tip of the iceberg for myself, though. That put me through the max amount of stress that year. I got home, and immediately succumbed to my own problems. I went on a very low dose of anxiety medicine, and after a few weeks in, I felt all the relief I was seeking. I stayed on it for a few months, and slowly weaned myself back off it.
I am happy to say I am back to myself, and that we are all well and doing very good. Life is unpredictable. Take every day for what it is worth. Listen to your gut, and speak and fight when you feel it’s right. You only have one life to live.
Life With Twins Plus 2