Not so. By dinner time the swollen, red beast was still growing. At this point it reached into her hairline and had overtaken her ear. No photo, because it was not the time to mess around.
Mitch ran over all the plants we had just purchased as he rushed her back to the ER. Lucy and I stayed behind because after various calls to dermatologist, ENT, and other physician friends; Mitch anticipated he and Zoey would be spending the night at the hospital. What?! As I packed her overnight bag I tried not to cry.
Once they were gone I opened the internet history and found all kinds of photos on Mitch’s go-to medical research site (UpToDate) accompanying threats like, “hearing loss, cerebral deterioration…” I closed the computer and did the only thing I could think to do, call my mom. It was late there, she didn’t mind. While sharing all this news did nothing to help the situation, I felt a little better by the time we hung up with everything crossed until further notice.
Meanwhile, at the hospital, they were doing CT scans to determine the spread of the infection and determine if it was inside her brain. Mitch sent me this photo via text message captioned, “She is being so brave.”
I stared at the sunset (it was midnight) and prayed to the illuminated, pink clouds. Please, please let her be ok. Hours later this photo came via text and the caption said, “We’re fine. Her brain is clean.” I exhaled and realized I’d been holding my breath for a long, long time. “Thank you, God!”
After a slew of various antibiotic shots (the worst part for her, which rendered her sore for the last few days) they were back home in the wee hours of the morning; Zoey in tears. She was exhausted, in pain, and angry because her Denver doctor told her she didn’t need any more shots until she was six (how could anyone have known?).
Now, days later, we’re recovering from the infection; the aches and pains; the fevers; and the exhaustion of it all … there have been many tears, sleepless nights, and a whole lot of whining … and I’ve never felt more blessed.
Funny how something “bad” helped me realize how very lucky I am.
To your health,