Do Not Be Afraid

Well. Here's the story.

Our pediatrician decided that Gracie needed to see an immunologist. He had his reasons. He said to wait to hear from him. So this morning at 10am, we get the call that our appointment is at 1pm with a Dr. Atkinson.

As we're getting ready to go, her fever spikes, the chills start. I give her medicine because I can't let her suffer. Off we go to our appointment. By the time we get there, she feels much better. Her fever is almost gone. We see the doctor. He is very confidence-inspiring. He seems to consider everything. I know this because he thinks out loud. I like that. He decides to get blood work and send her on home. I'm supposed to call on Friday for results. He makes the comment that she looks great. I agree with him... she does look great... at the moment.

As we're checking out, waiting for the piece of paper that I have to give to the lab people, Gracie makes the comment that she's cold. Ahhh, now it starts again. We walk around the corner and she starting to shake. I ask Chris if I should take her back so that the doctor can see what I'm talking about. He says maybe we should.

I ask the lab tech if I can give Grace her medicine, and she says yes. I do. We wait for about two minutes to be called back. By the time the tech is ready to actually stick her, her chills are so hard they almost look like a seizure... this is normal, it's what she's been doing. The tech has trouble getting her to bleed. She finds a vein, but Gracie is a little dehydrated and not bleeding very fast. I had asked her when we first got back there if I should take Grace back so the doctor can see. She thinks I should. But by the time she's done drawing blood, she goes herself to get the doctor.

About three minutes later, in Dr. Atkinson walks. He is visibly taken aback at the shape Gracie is in. The change is dramatic. Her chills are bad. He watches her for a full minute before he does any kind of exam. Then he says that he wants me to bring her back into the office so that he can examine her again. As we're walking with him back to his offices,with me carrying Gracie, I overhear him tell his nurse that he wants to admit her. He says he wants a CT scan of her abdomen, he wants to make sure that she has no 'abscesses'. My hands start to shake.

When we get back to his office, her temp is now close to 104. He gets on the phone. By this time, the office is closed. His nurse and med student are still there. The nurse brings Gracie a package containing 8 new chapter books. She gives her a coloring book. She brings Brody peanut butter and graham crackers.

The Doc comes back in and tells us where to go to be admitted. Apparently, it's right beside Mrs. Bonnie's desk. I smile. I call Mona, she goes and gets Maggie and Ty for church. I call Kim and tell her. I try not to tense up, I don't want a migraine.

Chris and Brody drop us off at the door. We check in, room 422. The nurses are great. By this time, Gracie looks normal again. She looks fine. The herd of doctors come in. They are very thorough. I feel frustrated because Gracie looks fine. The head doc tells me that Dr. Atkinson had called her cell and told her that he had a little girl that he wanted her to admit because of her 'rigors'. Thanks, that word doesn't freak me out. Rigors are her horrible chills. Not good apparently. Der.

Now we are here. She's already had chest x-rays. We're waiting to go to CT. Her fever spiked again after we got here. Just as they were drawing more blood. I sobbed as Gracie cried. I wanted to grab her and run away. But instead we clung to each other and stuck it out.

They think maybe it's the abscess thing, or maybe an immunological thing, or maybe an infection in her blood. None of these things sound good to me.

I want to go home. I want to be at church. I want to hide out in Jackson. I want Jesus to come back and get us out of here. I want perfection. I want my baby to be okay. I want to not be afraid. I want to cry.

Brody wanted to listen to AOC this morning on the way. I cried as I heard the voice of God through that music. "Do not be afraid. Your fragile and trembling hand is no burden to hold." I am afraid, but I reach my hand anyway.