How's this for twisted: I am in dire need of a vacation from my vacation.
Confused? Yeah, me too.
What was supposed to be a restful, quiet long weekend at my family's river house an hour and a half north of here never quite played out the way I'd planned it.
Will had a seizure on Saturday night.
Nothing like the fears of your everyday life coming to fruition to put a crimp in your holiday plans.
He's OK -- as best I can tell. Most likely caused by a growth spurt throwing the balance of his twice-daily anti-convulsant out of whack. However, he, for some reason, threw up in the wee small hours of the morning -- a big warning sign of a shunt malfunction. Not knowing where the local hospital was, I called 9-1-1 and the mister rode with Will in the ambulance (singing all the way) as I followed along behind in our car, watching for any unusual activity through the glass in the back door of the emergency vehicle.
Three hours, one small additional seizure, a CT scan and a low-grade tranquilizer later (for Will, although I could have used one) we got the all-clear and those lovely discharge papers. The CT looked "alright" to the on-call physician and some other medical person who worked for a neurologist for seven years. And while the personnel at the hospital weren't totally prepared for a pediatric neurological case like ours, they were some of the kindest, most patient-friendly people I've ever encountered. And that goes a long way with a parent running on adrenaline at 3 o'clock in the morning.
It had been quite a while since I'd been in a "grown-up" hospital, so I was a bit startled to see adults as patients -- I'm more used to the kiddo variety. My favorite: the guy who'd cut open his chin tripping over a dude who had passed out in front of the men's room door in some local watering hole. Don't get that kind of action in a children's hospital, that's for damn sure.
I'm still not quite sure how I made it back to the house -- driving on the wings of angels, I suppose. After a fitful couple of hours sleep -- Slumber finally won the battle with Anxiety -- I woke up to find Will sitting at the kitchen counter, happily eating his yogurt. Balance had been restored. At least for the time being. He's still a little off plumb, with moments of crankiness and sleepiness lasting longer than usual. But I'm chalking all that up to residue from a tough 12 hours. As I write this, he's still not quite asleep. It would probably help the cause for me not to keep going into his room every 20 minutes -- but I can't help myself. It's a Mama Thing.
I'm reminded of the fact that even on holiday, my everyday worries seem to always find a way into the luggage. I was looking forward to this weekend as a chance to get some R&R from the craziness that was our cruise. Turns out that we got a dosage of a different kind of craziness. And while these episodes are never easy on any of us, they are just part of our normal. It is what it is.
And now I'm simply looking for a couple of hours when I can let my guard down and breathe a bit.
Any suggestions on how and when are most welcome.