All in a day...

    During the week before Father's Day, we had some fun plans.  Milly had opted to celebrate her 14th birthday that week, as the guests we had invited were all free that Thursday to party at Lake Grapevine, splashing on the shore, water gun fighting, eating watermelon, and watching the sun go down.  I had taken her to shop for cherry themed decorations, and we had gotten the picnic together.  

    But, as the day approached, I started with a random cough that became so severe, Curtis had to take me to the doctor.  I haven't had breathing related issues in 30 years, and here I was in the doctor's office doing a breathing treatment, and getting an antibiotic prescription.  Though they ruled out pneumonia with an x-ray, they gave me something to help fend it off, whatever it was.  It took me a week and a half to get rid of the residual cough and congestion.  I wasn't back to full energy for days.  Though I thought it was originally caused by spraying five kids down with Off with DEET in it, thereby inhaling an ungodly amount of the repellent, as the week wore on, we realized we were up against something a little more formidable.  Several of the children started with a cough and congestion, accompanied by fever, and then Channing and Maggie started with nebulizer treatments seeking relief from tight, unrelenting shortness of breath.  We've been in the ER before with Channing, so I knew the routine if and when it should get away from us.   But, this time, they couldn't get his blood-oxygen level to stay up without oxygen.  

    I was on my third day of antibiotics, when Channing woke up at 4:30am unable to breathe.  He was retracting (meaning that his little stomach was pumping trying to push air in and out), almost gasping for air.  I hurried, knowing he was in trouble.  Curtis wasn't feeling well, either....yep, same thing.  He had run fever the night before, too.  I needed him to stay to take Maggie in to the doctor that day, so that maybe we could avoid an ER visit with her.  I gathered the typical things needed to pass time and wait for the steroids to kick in, and the string of albuterol treatments to open him up.  I figured we'd be home by 10:00am, and settle back into a more controlled and peaceful day.

    WRONG.  When we arrived, his blood-oxygen level was 81%, far below the healthy, life sustaining 92% they need to see to say he's out of the woods.  Every time they took off the mask, it dropped back into the 80's within seconds.  Time to transport.  We traveled by ambulance to Cook's Children's Hospital downtown, where we spent the duration of the day in the ER.  He was calm, and so was I.  We just needed to give the treatments time to open him up.  I asked every specialist that came into the room what we could have done to avoid this.  Nothing.  They could offer no advice to head off such an emergency.  Nice.  I don't like my kids being sick, especially when I cannot do a thing to help.  Thankfully, they seldom are sick, and we enjoy pretty robust health.  

    While we were in the ER, Curtis had taken Maggie in and gotten her fixed up in time.  She wasn't feeling well, but had a handle on her breathing, and started on her antibiotic to finish this thing off.  He also went in to see his doctor, getting two shots to heal him, as he had to travel the next week.  After picking up some lunch for me (I hadn't eaten anything but graham crackers and a can of Gatorade.....and these medical centers are supposed to heal you?), he was finally headed down to Cook's to see Channing.  While on the phone with him, I heard the crunch of metal and him gasp, then groan....then silence.

    A car accident????  I called his name several times.  More silence, for another gut-wrenching 15 seconds.  He picked up the phone that had been hurled out of his hands, and said, "Jackie, I've been hit!  I'm hit."  Then, he hung up.  I don't believe in panic.  But, I guess that is just what I did.  

    I cried out, rather loudly, as it commanded the attention of some 52 people in the main room of Cook's Emergency Center, "My husband!  My husband's been in a car accident and he's not okay! He was on his way here on 35 and he's not okay!"  Then I burst into tears and began shaking uncontrollably.  They ushered me out of Channing's room and brought a grief counselor in to help.  I was taken to a dark room full of empty chairs, and they left me momentarily to work it out.  I called Daddy (Papa), and told him in hysteria what had happened, and to go find Curtis.  It took him a minute to process what I was saying, but he jumped on it, and went to the police station up the street to find the report of any major accidents in the area to know where to find him.

    Finally, Curtis called me back and was surely shaken, but he thought he was still in one piece.  He was able to walk and move, but his car was totaled.  I assured him that Daddy was on his way, and to hold on.  I was relieved, but unable to stop the shaking.  My whole body tremored, and as hard as I tried to slow my breathing and still my bones, I just couldn't.  They brought me a heated blanket to wrap up in, and admitted Channing to the hospital transferring us to a private room. 

   When Daddy walked in with my husband, he might as well have presented him to me all over again much like 21 years ago.  I had not taken the blanket off, and could hardly visit with the new attending doctors for fielding phone calls and staying in touch with the children.  Curtis wrapped me up in his arms, blanket and all, and I have never been more grateful for flesh and blood.  His shoulder was burned through two shirts from the seat belt restraining him.  He ended up with a bad bruise on his left side.  He was already sore from head to toe, but brought me my lunch anyway.  He said the tea didn't make it, that he wasn't exactly sure what happened to it, but my chicken salad sandwich and chips survived.

    He was hit from the side by a Chevy crew cab truck.  It took the trunk off of his car, nearly missing the gas tank head on.  Another 5 inches would have meant an explosion, another 3 feet would have been him directly, a side impact.  The truck spun him around twice, and the impact dislodged the lenses from the eye glasses in his pocket throwing them to the other side of the car.  The attempt on his life was obvious, and how grateful we all were that God saved him!  

 Notice the back windshield on the ground.

    Daddy took me home after we had a chance to eat.  He actually brought me back to the van where I left it at the first hospital, then I headed home for a shower, and a nap.  Donna, my midwife and good friend, came to stay with the other children until we knew how everyone was.  Curtis Wade left his job shift to come home and stay until further notice.  He picked up dinner for everybody here, and brought a sense of calm.  Later that night, after I had a chance to regain my thoughts and get some sleep, he brought me back to Cook's and brought Curtis home for the night.  Neither of us thought it wise for him to try to sleep on a hospital guest bed after the accident.  Channing was finally peacefully sleeping when I arrived at midnight.  I packed everything I thought I could possibly use for another day in limbo.  I was loaded for bear.

    By Saturday evening, we were all home together, on the mend, and in one piece.  Aunt Jan, our loving and attentive neighbor, brought us Babe's Fried Chicken with all the fixin's, including two coconut cream pies.  We settled in to a quiet dinner (okay, not necessarily quiet, but calm), and some much needed down time.  Father's Day was spent resting up some more, then Curtis and I made the Whole Food's run we missed on Friday.  The kids got the house spotless, and some brownies made, with cards and pictures ready on the mantle for Daddy.  When we got home, we celebrated Daddy with renewed gratitude for his ever faithful presence.

 This photo was after his oxygen had stabilized and his color returned.

I love those rosy cheeks!

 Finally discharged and dressed to go!

 

    After getting home and hearing from the kids, we found out that on the same day, Christian had killed a Copperhead snake on the carport, and later, a rat snake got away.  What a day can hold! Milly's party isn't going to happen, after all.  We tried to reschedule, but the kids we invited are all full throttle into their summers.  We're going to settle for three individual date days to get together with her friends.  She's fine with it, actually grateful we're all here to celebrate however it works out!  
    I went looking for Curtis one day this week, and found him on his phone on the porch.  I snapped this picture, as it reminded me of a halo on his head with the evening sun behind him, and his casual stance.  Peace.