Being a good Mommy, I took pictures of the rash all over his face, the swollen eyes and lips, the welt on his head that looked like a goose egg from a head trauma. I called the pediatrician, because we could not give any more benadryl after two and a half doses. It was time for the dreaded twinject. Which was...... expired. Cue the ambulance. Because after all.. it's 6:30 pm and NO ONE is open that can fill a prescription or give an injection and monitor my child at that time of the night, when you live in the sticks, the pharmacy closed at 6, and the sucky clinic that sucks (thank you Jill for that whole "sucky ________ that sucks" phrase. I love it, and have adopted it) closes at 5pm.
I don't really feel that the above picture does justice to his reaction. Let me show you what it REALLY looked like, before it also affected his extremities.
Lest you think I am writing this to gain sympathy.. I assure you I am not. This is my version of therapy. I have to get it out. I can't cry in front of my twinnies or #5 because it freaks them out, and I am SUCH a wreck. Too little sleep following an ambulance transport to the ER because your child is having a life threatening experience will do that to ya.
In the ambulance, he was silent. Lethargic. Wasn't responding to voice or making eye contact. We were very worried about seizures, so there were three paramedics in the back, making it impossible for me to be back there with him, too. I slowly, and methodically lost my mind in the front seat with the driver who, bless his heart, tried to keep me preoccupied by talking about the weather, the GFCF diet, and how I don't look old enough to have 7 children ( He is SUCH a liar, and is going to hell.) But, Logan's redness was fading just a little, so they decided not to do the epi injection. He didn't make a sound when they put in his IV. On a bumpy road. He was silent when they were checking him over in the hospital. He didn't object to the throat swab for the strep test. He laid there with no emotion.
But this morning:
And THAT, addicts... that smile? That's what makes me know we're all going to be OK.