We were predicted to get 18- 24 inches of snow and winds of over 50 mph yesterday. We ended up with about 9 inches and the winds never turned into much. As the storm wound down, people started questioning the meteorologists and complaining. I always find myself on the opposite side of that argument. I feel sorry for anyone who is trying there best, with the information they are provided, to make a call.
Perhaps it’s because I feel like a weatherman (mom) myself. I do the best I can with the information I am given, AND I don’t want people to judge me.
Taking care of Jack is like trying to predict a winter storm. You know when all the elements are setting themselves up for something, but you never really know what’s going to happen until it’s arrived. All you can do is prepare for the worst-case-scenario and cross your fingers. Sometimes you end up looking like you’ve overreacted.
Sunday morning Jack woke up running slow. After a super fun night celebrating a friend’s 50th birthday and a Madmen party raising money for our school district, Dan and I also woke up running a little slow. We ate breakfast without our usual lively morning routine. Jack seemed rather sullen and Dan and I noticed that Jack was not swallowing any of his food. We did all our usual checks to see if there was anything in our forecast – temperature, throat check, press belly. Everything looked okay, but we did give our boy some extra hydration and set him up under blankets in front of his favorite show. Not laughing to his Impractical Jokers should have heightened my concern, but I was a little distracted by my throbbing headache, so I just continued on with my day.
Luckily we didn’t have much on our plate so we were able to hunker down. We kept an extra eye on Jack and his mood. There was one hint that something was brewing when a diaper change lead to a double shower, but we were hoping it was an isolated squall.
I finally motivated and went on my daily walk around 5 pm. I was busy listening to my podcast (Missing Richard Simmons – so good) when Dan called, “Get home quick. Jack needs to go to the hospital.”
Two dogs, ill-fitting boots and a mom on a mission, I ran back to the house. Jack had thrown up all over the den and was shaking. His color was off and his eyes were bloodshot. It looked like a category 5 storm was going to hit. Within a few minutes, we were packed and loaded for the hospital.
As soon as we walk into the ER, Dan and I both turned into crazy people. When we see a storm brewing in our boy, we need everyone to stop what they are doing and focus. “Jack has Adrenoleukodystrophy, Addison’s Disease and Epilepsy. He needs 50 mg of hydrocortisone and IV fluids NOW! If a seizure starts, we’re in trouble!”
When they didn’t find us a room within ten minutes, I sent Dan in. I am not sure what he said but we were ushered into a room within seconds. Again, we started screaming at anyone who walked into the room, “What’s taking so long? We need an IV placed now!”
Long story short – It didn’t get that bad. Jack did get his IV hydration and his 50 mg of Hydrocortisone. His color came back quickly and he even managed to flirt with a nurse or two. There was no seizure. Jack came home with us three hours later, feeling a great deal better. All the nurses and doctors seemed happy to get us out of there and I’m pretty sure I saw them rolling their eyes at us as we quietly thanked them and walked out the hospital doors.
So yes, we looked like crazy, paranoid parents. But sometimes you can’t risk not sounding the alarm and putting up the storm windows.
P.S. Jack is still sporting a snotty cold, but his spirits are back and he is enjoying his snow days!