Monday, December 1, 2014

The Story of Sam

Sam has pneumonia.

Sam said last Thursday, "Mom, I don't feel good.  I need to go to the hospital, I have pneumonia."
Mother said, "No, Sam, you do not have pneumonia, you have a bad cold like me.  Just try to enjoy Thanksgiving with your dad."

Sam said last Friday, "Mom, I don't feel good.  I need to go to the hospital, I have pneumonia."
Mother said, "No Sam, it's just a sore throat and congestion, not pneumonia.  Go have fun at the hot springs.  The mineral water will do you some good."

Sam said, last Saturday, "Mom, I don't feel good.  I need to go to the hospital, I have pneumonia."
Mother said, "No Sam, I'm sure you don't have pneumonia, maybe bronchitis, not pneumonia.  If you aren't better by Monday, we will take you to the doctor."  So, he laid there, quarantined by himself while everyone else went out for the day to have fun.

Sam said, last Sunday...nothing.  He just laid there, quarantined all by himself with a continuing fever of 102, resigned to the fact that he didn't have pneumonia.
Mother said, "Sam, you're sick.  You've had a fever of 102 since Thursday, we better go to the hospital."

Off to the hospital they went.  The nurse looked at him, sure, didn't look too bad.  The doctor looked at him, sure didn't look too bad.  They ran some tests.  Shot some x-rays.

A couple of hours later, after a liter of fluids and a racing heart rate, the doctor came back in and said, "Sam.  You have pneumonia."

Mother looked at him and fell off her chair.  That's the story of Sam.

This is also the story of how I lost my standing as a halfway decent mother!  Okay, that might be dramatic but seriously?  How did that happen?  How did he know?

This is the boy, who since the day he ever had an opinion would deny ever being sick.  I would keep him home from school and he would get so angry because he "wasn't sick."  He could have had a fever of 130 and he would still not allow me to tell him he was sick.  He hates being sick.  He knows when he gets sick, he gets quarantined away from the rest of the family, so it's really not fun.

I should have caught on that something really was wrong when he was begging to go to the hospital!

Sadly, we lost some time in treating it right away.  His blood counts are so low which is astonishing.  Even with poor counts, an infection almost always bumps their counts into the normal range but not this time.  It's almost like his body doesn't even recognize that something bad is happening.

We were given a choice to admit him or treat him on an outpatient basis.  I waffled back and forth but ultimately, chose to keep him at home.  His counts are way too low to take a risk at a hospital full of sick people.  I have to take him back every day to spend the morning getting filled up with two different antibiotics.  The antibiotics make him sick to his stomach.  I think tomorrow I will try to have him eat while he gets it and see if having food in his gut will help.

Ahhh...live and learn!

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