That Tuesday started one of the craziest weeks of our lives, and we couldn’t have made it through without the support of some very special people.
To you who cleaned our house, filled our fridge, organized our towel drawer and brought us dinners,
Who stayed with us at different points, took the kiddos to swimming and me to driver ed,
Who occupied the girls, did our laundry and let me cry in the car,
Who texted me over and over, and let me vent,
Who sent us encouraging emails, texts and Facebook messages, and let us know you cared,
Who visited Nicholas in the hospital, prayed over him, and let my momma have a water break,
Who prayed,
Thank you. I can’t express how much you mean to us all. Your prayers, words, and help mattered- to Mom at the hospital, Dad in Ohio, and me home with all the girls. We couldn’t have made it without you and we firmly believe that Nicholas is healed today because of the healing power of our Heavenly Father. Your prayers made a difference.
Nicholas’s story is below, for those who might wish to read it.
God is good.
It’s a basic Tuesday morning and my mom is out running when my sister comes in and tells me that my brother can’t get out of bed. I go in and basically tell him to swing his legs around and climb down. It seems like a minor bump to a “normal” day. An hour or two later, he’s still complaining about his leg when I leave for Driver’s Ed.
Later in the day, he’s still in a ton of pain- and Kristin is still hobbling around from her hurt toe she got at soccer the night before. After dinner, Mom takes them both to the urgent care clinic, and I stay home with the little ones. She brings them home around 9:30- Kristin with a jammed toe and Nicholas undiagnosed. They think that possibly he has an appendix on the other side and that maybe he has appendicitis. We’re told to go the the E.R. if his pain gets worse or if he throws up. It’s a hard process to get him up the stairs and into bed.
The next morning, he “thinks it feels a little better.” I go off to driver’s ed again, after making Momma promise several times to text me updates. He gets worse throughout the day, and once piano lessons are over, Mom decides to take him in. Getting him into the car is difficult; he’s in so much pain that he can’t move his leg or hip without crying. We all cry a little watching him cry as they drive away.
Mom calls every few hours to give us updates, and the doctors don’t seem to know exactly what is wrong. First they say it’s appendicitis, then a badly pulled muscle, then a bacterial infection of the hip. It’s hard to wait, not knowing. Anna and Libby get a lot of texts, and their prayers and assurance is such a blessing. The doctors decide to admit him overnight and Mrs. W and Carson come over to spend the night with us and bring food. Dad leaves Ohio at 3 in the morning so that he can be at [the hospital] by 9. We think there’s a lot of long, painful tests ahead, and Dad wants to be there for Nick, for Mom, and for us.
I have to leave the house at 7:15 to drive the next day, and Mom texts while I’m at class that it’s a viral infection called Toxic Synovitis. They come home around 3, and he’s still limping, but so much better. He’s home, and we all think that life will go back to normal again. It doesn’t.
~~~
It’s around 8:30 the next morning when the phone rings. Mom answers it, gets a funny look on her face, and goes into the office to talk. A few minutes later, she comes back in to tell me that the doctor called and that they found staph infection in Nicholas’s blood- in both samples they sent in to test. The doctors need him to come back to the hospital right away. His appointment for 4 o’clock that afternoon is too late.
When Momma tells him, he cries, “You mean I have to go back and get more blood tests?” He’d had 7 blood tests and 3 ivs already in the past 24 hours. Mom texts Anna from church to come stay with the kids, and I have to get ready to leave for Driver’s Ed. At this point, I begin to think that driving is a little overrated.
Mrs. S comes to pick me up, and Mom comes out to the van to tell her. Then Mom starts crying, I start crying and Mrs. S starts praying. It’s a few minutes before we leave our driveway. Everyone in the car and at class was so sweet, but I think that was the longest class in history. I get home to a counter full of food, a clean house, and the kids just getting home from swimming lessons. I strongly believe we have the best friends in the world.
The doctors do an echocardiogram of Nicholas’s heart to make sure the staph isn’t infecting it, and it comes back fine. Ws pick us up and take us to a little party that's been planned for a few weeks, and we pray for Nicholas while we’re there. We’re told that the doctors will do one more test to make sure he’s positive, and then they will start him on iv antibiotics for a week or two. If he responds well to those, they’d send him home with a PIC line for another two to four weeks. I email and text to get others praying, and Mom and Dad do the same. Satan starts whispering, “You know how you planned to...” and “How will you do/go ___ with Nick attached to medical lines all day?” We keep praying. Satan goes away.
We all get to go visit Nicholas at the hospital the next morning, and then Anna takes us home. We’re supposed to get the test results around 12, and Dad and Mom don’t want us there. It’s closer to one when a doctor comes in and tells them. “There’s absolutely no traces of staph in his blood. There’s no explanation for this. I just can’t understand it.”
We do. Our God is good.
