Fear

Ismael gives me a hard time about everything I ever ask him to do.  It’s his favorite source of amusement.

A few barky coughs from Adam signaling the onset of croup changes everything.

“Change his diaper, while I get the Motrin ready just in case he gets a fever.”  Done.

“Please go get the pack and play from the car so that he can sleep in our room.”  Done.

“Sit with him so I can get it set up.”  Done.

I look at Ismael’s face and I see my own fear mirrored in his expression.  We don’t say it, but we both know.  The beginning of illness is when Adam is most at risk for seizure.  Because he’s had two now, it’s likely that there are more in our future before he outgrows them.  The sudden onset of fever may or may not trigger one.   We have no way of knowing.

The febrile seizures, though terrifying, are not  likely to be fatal.  We have the medicine to stop one once it starts.  We are good at calling 911.  We are trained and know what to do if one happens.

Though it is a fearful night for us, I can’t help but think of those whose children have serious conditions from which they may not recover.  I am able to find some gratitude that our issues are so relatively minor.