...wednesday was a good one. We drove up to Baltimore for Clara's 18-month checkup. We had Starbucks, Clara's appointment (where we learned that she is tall...94th percentile tall!), Target, and Chick Fil A. The kids were happy, patient, kind to each other. The sun was shining.
Thursday was back to school for both kids and me, back to our normal routine. That night as we were putting Clara and Charlie into the tub, Clara started to fuss a little as I took her top off. And then she froze.
If you have met Clara in person, you know she doesn't freeze much.
Something was wrong. I put her in the tub to see if the water on her feet would startle her. Nothing. I handed her to Ken to see if she would react. Nothing. I ran for the phone to call 911 and as I was explaining what was happening, I saw her eyes roll into the back of her head, her lips start to turn blue.
God bless that person on the other end of the line and may I never hear a recording of that call.
Ken laid her on her back and swept her mouth to make sure there wasn't anything in there (per the 911 operator). At one point, what seemed like hours later but was really only minutes, she starting coughing and then she was back. I spent the rest of the 911 call trying to explain where we lived to the operator, even after he assured me they would find us.
And that they did. Six ambulances and 12 EMTs, to be exact. Our town's volunteers showed up first, followed by 10 more. It was humbling and made me love this town more than I thought possible. Any thoughts about what I can do to thank them?
No one was panicked (except Charlie, maybe a little, as Ken tried to comfort him). They did a quick exam and by then I had already diagnosed her. Febrile seizure. I had them as a baby, and I knew they were hereditary.
We made the trip to the hospital in the back of the ambulance. The only thing that would comfort Clara was watching videos on my phone of 1) Charlie and 2) Maddie (I later - in an extreme moment of weakness - told Ken that we should get her a puppy. Ha).
A high-dose of motrin, some gatorade, a little nap, and a negative flu test later, she was fine (and all like, "Hey! Being up at 10 p.m. is COOL!)
She is OK. It is a bad virus. And Charlie has croup. And mom and dad are tired. But we are OK. We know what to look for now and how to react if it happens again. And no, we aren't getting a puppy.