“forget not that I am here
with thee as a guide” ~Undine
Two days ago my dad suddenly got very paranoid about Oliver’s foot. He read an article that talked about how infection is most prevalent 2 to 3 weeks after surgery in children. That especially if there is metal sticking out of the skin, the infection can spread rapidly. He told me that I should take Oliver’s temperature every night and even if it’s a low grade fever I should call the doctor. I took this with a grain of salt. Oliver seemed just fine. He was itchy and awake at night and irritable a little bit during the day but I figured it was just because he’d had a cast on for three weeks! Well yesterday he was having trouble walking and complaining more about his foot. I was a little worried but still not too concerned. I took a cue tip and swirled it around his toes and found a feather and a piece of straw and a bunch of gook. Oliver nodded when I asked him if it felt better so I figured that was all it was. But then he didn’t want to eat dinner (Oliver never refuses food!) and around 7pm he had an internal fever of 100. I was SO in denial. Beau (who never worries about anything) decided to call the doctor just in case…so we could be told it was no big deal basically. But the on-call doc said to bring him in just in case. So Beau took a smiling, waving Oliver to Children’s with the words,
“I’d rather be a paranoid parent of a child with TWO legs….”
Well…by the time he got there Oliver’s fever had gone up to 102 and his white blood cell count had elevated. They decided to open up his cast and take a look inside.
You guys. Beau showed me a picture and I almost threw up. There are two wires extending through his foot. One of them pokes out like a little hanger out the top, which is the way it’s supposed to look, the other had sunk down into the gelatinous melt that had become his skin. How this boy was able to not cry and barely complain while his foot was essentially disintegrating is a complete mystery to me.
Long story short: they disinfected the wound, said it was good it hadn’t gone down into the foot, and since there was no pus and just drainage they put the cast back on with a bandage temporarily until the surgeon can have a look, then gave him some antibiotics and a prescription and sent the boys on their merry way. They got home at 3am.
Today I am in complete awe and disbelief at how miraculous it is that my dad read that article and put the bug in my ear to be vigilant. If we’d waited until Wednesday we’d be in the hospital with an iv drip over Christmas. Oliver’s bones might have become infected…his whole little body could have become infected!
I feel like my dad is the wise wizard, and Beau the brave knight. When this type of thing happens I become completely useless. I can’t cook or think or function. Beau takes up his sword and gets on his mighty steed and takes care of everyone.
Edit: I was just looking at the photo of Oliver’s foot again and told Beau I could not have handled being there because I would probably have thrown up. He said, “Good thing your head’s up here when you’re giving birth.”