what are my goals? Is watching your son grow up a goal? I need to look up the word goal. Say it is a goal, when do I reach my goal, when he's 21? 30? 40? I love watching him, it's great to watch him discover things. What he's discovered lately is his reflection in car doors. He just kind of stands there and looks at himself, smiles, then he rocks from side to side, he points at himself, smiles some more, then he moves to the next car. I'm watching him much more closely then usual, cause we weren't really watching the moment his fever turned into a seizure. He was playing in with his toys, then he very quietly walked over to Roz, sat in her lap and began convulsing. Roz says to me, "there's something wrong with Coleman. He's shaking." I walked over to her. I take him. He's shaking like he's really, really cold, but he's not, he's really hot. "Call 911," I say to Roz - I'm very calm "talk to daddy, tell daddy what's wrong." A silly request now that I think about it, he's only 16 months old. I try to see if there's something in his throat, maybe he's choking on something, but I can't get his mouth open, his little gums are clenched shut. The 911 operator is telling Roz to lay him on his side, and to put a cold compress on his forehead. I tell Roz to put the phone on speaker and get the wet cloth - I'm in control. My son has been shaking for a very long time, 2 minutes? 3 minutes? his lips are blue, his body is rigid, his eyes stare at me. He stops shaking, his eyes roll back in his head, then they close, he's not moving. I'm holding my son and I think I'm watching him die (I've always been too scared to admit that.) I don't know CPR. I lay him on the floor and get really really close, he's still breathing. He's sleeping. Roz hands me the cold cloth, I place it on his forehead. I'm still really calm "Roz get the diaper bag ready," the paramedics are on their way...
The door bell rings, would the paramedics ring the door bell, shouldn't they just bust in. I don't know what that first paramedic was expecting to see, but it wasn't a tiny little boy lying on a bare wood floor with a cold cloth on his forehead. I saw in his eyes what he saw and then I realized how frightened I was. He dropped to his knees and begin "working" on my son. He didn't do a lot, but it seemed like a lot. He put an oxygen mask over my son's mouth and he and his partner lifted him to the girney. The sight of my 2 foot tall son on a 7 foot girney was too much for me - all the saliva that should have been in my mouth came pouring out of my eyes. Roz says "he s going to be OK." She's in control now. In the ambulance the paramedics try and get Coleman agitated, they say a good sign that babies are OK are crying and fussiness. But Coleman just wants to sleep and he does so for the next five hours. He sleeps through poking and prodding and diaper changes and x-rays. He sleeps in my arms, he sleeps in Roz's arms, he sleeps in my mom's arms. He just sleeps. And we watch...
Then he wakes up, Roz is holding him. I offer him a little turkey from my half eaten sandwich and he eats, and he eats a little more and a little more until all the turkey is gone. Then he wants to get down, he's ready to explore his new surroundings, so I hold his hand as we walk around the emergency room.
Febrile Seizure!! Lot's of kids under 5 get them. Caused by a spike in fever, he might get it again, there are no lasting effects, he'll be fine - we were told to go home. No lasting effects my ass. When he gets a little warm and babies are always a little warm, we're quicker to reach for the baby tylenol or baby moltrin or baby whatever will not cause my son to have another seizure. I feel kinda of robbed of the innocence of watching him play, every trip, fall or bump takes on the tiniest bit more urgency. But he's great, he's running and playing and talking and singing and a constant source of joy - and fear.
Our ordeal lasted only a few hours, what about the parents who spend days in hospitals, weeks, months - when does the saliva return to their mouths.
We watch him a little more closely now. I watch what I do, say, think and write a little more closely. I'm a husband, father and writer and this is my blog.
