Yesterday was day 4 of Taylor having a fever that we just couldn't seem to break. Tuesday night around 2:30 in the morning it had reached 103.5 and we had to place him in a cool bath, which he hated, but it did do it's job.
I know that sickness effects Taylor a little different than it does his sister, his immune system is like the puny little weakling playing on the playground as opposed to my daughter's immune system which manages to bully its illness out of her body within 24 hours. But, Taylor being a preemie and all is usually down for the count for a few days before he starts to show some improvement. But as you can imagine with any child, I started to get worried yesterday when Bryan called me at work at 1:30 and said his temperature was back up to 102.8. I called the pediatrician and they agreed they should see him and worked him into their full schedule.
Because it was later in the day, I told Bryan I would take Taylor because I knew it was going to be a long wait, it typically is when we actually have an appointment so being "worked in" meant they would see us sometime around 5pm. Someone had to be available to get Claire from tutoring and since I am Taylor's rock, I said I would take him.
I know that my place of work is not too thrilled when I leave but luckily with MLK day and the President's Inaugural, the phones had been pretty peaceful so I rushed to pick my son up and get him to the doctor in the 30 minutes the nurse had asked of me.
They checked Taylor head to toe and I sat there with tears in my eyes watching my son quiver with fear and fever because he still remembers last year when he ran a fever for a week and they ended up giving him some sort of shot in his upper thighs to bring the fever down, and how much it hurt, and how I had to hold him down and watch him scream in pain. The kind nurse asked Taylor to follow her to the scale in the hall so she could weigh him and I started to sit in the chair in our room like I usually do but before I could, I hear the nurse calling Taylor's name. I stepped into the hall to see my son running down the hall towards me just as fast as his toes could carry him. His mouth was open in a silent wail and he wasn't breathing, he was in mid sob. I picked him up and held him close to me, my eyes filled with tears for my little man. I begged him to tell me what was wrong and he finally sobbed about that he was just so scared she was going to stick him with that needle. It broke my heart that this little miracle was terrified, so scared that he didn't want to step on the scale thinking if he turned his head for a moment, they'd get him.
Last night I called one of my supervisors to let him know that I would be in tomorrow but if Taylor was still running a fever the next day, I would need to take him back so they could do more tests, how they thought he might even have something called silent pneumonia. I was pissed and a little hurt that his only response was oh, okay. He nor my big boss bothered to call or ask if he was okay, if he was still alive?!?! Sometimes, like they like to tell me, I wish they would step out of the box and see that it isn't all about work.
*UPDATE* As of 7:10 am Taylor seems to be fever free ~ please keep us in your prayers and thoughts.