Hospitalized

We don't go to the doctor unless we have a really good reason to...like having a baby.  As in: when I went to the doctor before I got married, the address they had on file was the one I had moved from when I was seven years old. Outside of when they were born, none of my children has ever been in the hospital...until now.

My kids had gone down one day early for a family reunion.  Titus was sick and didn't sleep a wink through the night.  I was getting ready to head down to the family reunion and kept thinking if I could just get gone then he would sleep on the way and wake up feeling better.

But I really felt like he might need to see the doctor.  I called the office and learned that our pediatrician was the one on call, which I took as a sign that we needed to go in.  So instead of heading South to retrieve my children and join my family at the reunion, I headed North to the pediatrician.

As soon as the doctor entered the exam room, he told me I needed to take Titus to Utah Valley Regional.  I was so scared!  I was intimidated by the sheer size of such a facility.  I almost asked the doctor to give Titus a blessing as we left his office on the way to the hospital, but I was too close to tears.  As soon as I got to the car, the tears came and I started to pray.  I called my mom and asked if she could keep my kids for a little longer and called Jeff to fill him in on the bad news.

From the moment we arrived at the hospital they took excellent care of us.  I was so impressed my the kindness of every single person we encountered.  It is not as if they get paid more for being nice, but they were fantastic. 

It probably helped that Titus was the perfect patient. 

Every staff member that entered our room had to be in full sterile dress, so mine was the only face Titus saw until Grandpa and Grandma came for a visit.

That cheered our little patient right up.

When the cousins came, Titus was unhooked from most of the machines and monitors, which made their visit a lot more fun for everyone.

Titus was diagnosed with reactive airway disorder, which is basically baby asthma.  With any kind of mild infection, his lungs become so inflamed that he can't breathe.  When he can't breathe he can't sleep, and he refuses to eat, which means he becomes dehydrated and it becomes even more difficult for his lungs to clear out.  For now we are getting used to regular treatments at home and trying to manage his flare-ups as best as we can.  We are praying that as he gets older and his lungs get bigger he can outgrow this. 

In the meantime, we are grateful for bunches of tiny miracles along the way.  Interesting, isn't it, that when things aren't exactly going our way we recognize so many ways that God is watching over us?  Like the way my sister followed a prompting so my children were automatically taken care of throughout this ordeal.  Like the way our insurance worked out.  Like the way Titus responded to his medication.  Like the Sacrament that was administered to me on the Sunday we were hospitalized.  I know that God is always aware of me and my needs.  I see it every day.