Wednesday I got James up and we started the "get ready for school routine". He was not particularly cooperative and did not want to go to school. This is not the first time he has been less than enthusiastic about getting up and going to school. Then he pulls out his secret weapon, "I sick". While this tactic is often effective in getting his Mom's sympathy and consequent investigation as to the true state of his health, I am not easily convinced. I am more inclined to believe that he is working me and so my response is more an effort to convince him how well he is. We are going to get dressed and we are going to get on that bus. There are things to do, schedules to keep, obligations to fulfill. A sick boy at home changes everything. I am more of the mindset that goes like this, "throw up and prove it if you are sick". And even then, I am not totally convinced. With my firm and salesman like response, I got him dressed and we had him on the bus and he was off.
Within the hour I got a call from his teacher at school. James is sick. He threw up all over his shirt and he is now lying down in the nurse's office. Can you please come and get him. So much for my parental discernment. I kind of felt like a heal for my insensitivity. I did go to school and there he was sick and wearing a borrowed "Missouri Lottery" t-shirt. He was quite enthusiastic about the new purple shirt and handed me the plastic bag containing the soiled shirt we had put on him an hour before. I walked out with my little guy and with a repentant and more sensitive attitude.
James was hot with fever and he was throwing up anything we gave him. Cindy continued her phone consultations with the doctor's office. They suggested that we go to the only other way of giving medicine and called in an order for a suppository. Cindy called me to come home because when James learned about this grossest of ideas; he was not going to allow it. Thankfully we all got through it and his fever did go down. But after 3 days it was time to take him to the doctor's office.
The doctor's office is full of great people from the receptionists to the nurses and nurse practitioner we saw. The swab to check for strep was a bit traumatic for our already very sick guy. He did ok and in a few minutes it came back positive. After a quick discussion about how to get the antibiotic's going we decided that since he could not swallow and keep things down the best approach was a shot.
When the nurse came in the room with the silver tray in hand and the shot clearly displayed James knew what was coming. He was not about to give in to this previously experienced pain in the name of healing. He used all of his opposition behaviors from crying, pulling away, and sitting on the floor. When he realized he was outnumbered he did stand up and the three of us held him down while the shot was administered. All the stickers in the office could not erase the pain and trauma but they did help.
Today, some 24 hours after the shot he is much better. I sat him down to drink his vitamins shake while I ate breakfast. We bowed our heads to pray. In my prayer I asked God to heal James and help him feel better. I also thanked God for the doctors and even the shot. Out of the corner of my half closed eyes I watched him. When I thanked God for the shot, he quickly turned his head toward me in amazement. Why was Dad thanking God for a shot? He cried out, "No shot. No shot ever again." I tried my best to recite the benefits of fast acting inject able antibiotics but he would not be convinced.
Thankfully, James is much better. After three days of not wanting to eat or drink he is clearly improving. He was asking for chicken and rice and even requested that I go buy some "whales".
