Kawasaki Fevers and Big House Dreams

I tend to only write about the happier memories. The ones we’ll want to look back and remember. The sweet moments that make us smile and laugh. But we all know I’d be lying if I said that parenting is a walk in the park. There are sleepless teething nights, the uncontrollable screaming (sometimes both boys at the same time!), the pooping on the floor instead of the Lightning McQueen potty, the pooping in the diaper, the poop blowing out the back of said diaper, and the sucking of snot from their noses with something called, yes, a “snot sucker.” And that’s only the beginning! One day I’ll have to worry about them DRIVING! And getting into COLLEGE!

But it’s these bad times that make you value the good ones – that keep everything in perspective and remind you to appreciate the subtle victories. Like when Brooks agrees to put his shoes on without epic hysteria.

Recently we had a week of such opposing extremes that I wanted to document both the good and the bad.

Waiting shows while we waited in the ER to be admitted to the hospital.

First, the bad. Brooks got sick. Very sick. It started as a typical cold, followed the usual trajectory of cold-turned-ear-infection, and we eventually got prescribed the standard antibiotic. But this time, the sickness did not get better. For 9 days, Brooks was miserable. He had fevers over 101 (some as high as 104) every day and we were giving him Advil and Tylenol around the clock to manage what appeared to be a tremendous amount of pain. He’s only 2.5 so he couldn’t quite articulate it all, but when we asked him where it hurt, he said “everywhere.” He was lifeless, whiny and mostly wanted to lie on the couch and say “I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to rest.” He wasn’t eating or drinking much unless we forced him. We couldn’t even trick him with milkshakes or ice pops. Throughout those 9 days I tried to stay positive, but after repeated visits to the doctor and one visit to the ER, I started to really worry. The ear infection had cleared. Why did he still have a fever? Why did he seem so miserable? Doctors said maybe a sinus infection? Maybe mono? They did blood work. His mono test was negative but his CBC showed elevated inflammation markers. Something was wrong, but they still didn’t know what.

IV finally in. Waiting for the IVIG.

Treatment started. Waiting for relief.

After Dr. Dunk called with the blood results two days later, we finally decided to treat him for something CRAZY called Kawasaki’s disease. I had never heard of it before. Now, I can tell you everything you may want to know and cite multiple medical journals (that I stumbled upon in worry at 3am).  It’s an autoimmune disease that affects the blood vessels. If left untreated longer than 10 days, it has a higher risk of affecting his heart. With ventricular aneurysms. HIS HEART. It was day 9. He had what the doctors called an “incomplete” or “atypical” case because he didn’t have all the tell tale symptoms, but he had enough of them, and we couldn’t afford to be wrong. We needed to do something.

Finally admitted. Waiting to feel better. 

I’ll spare you the intense emotional rollercoaster and how I nearly lost my mind in the process of those 9 days, but even though the diagnosis was scary, I was just so relieved to finally have a plan. The treatment was something called IVIG, a blood product of pooled plasma from hundreds of donors administered through a 10 hour IV drip. We went straight to the hospital. After 2 tries, several nurses holding him down and blood curdling screams of fear and pain, we got the IV in place. Brooks responded to the treatment in only a few hours. The fever finally broke. He fell asleep and managed to sleep soundly all night. I sat there and watched him, still in shock at the final culmination of what had been such a long 9 days.

Fever finally broke. Slept through the night.

Day two. Smiling. First fever free smile in a long time.

Radio flyer to and from the cardiology wing for our echocardiogram.

We went to the hospital on Thursday. Got discharged on Saturday. But the little dark cloud of un-healthiness hung over us a little longer. I got stomach bug on Tuesday night. Stayed home from work Wednesday-Friday. Carter started running a high fever on Saturday. Lasted through Monday. And he worked his way through a virus rest of the following week. Talk about pouring when raining. 

I am happy to report we are currently ALL healthy. I have never in my life appreciated our health more than now.

Now, the good news. Somehow, in the midst of all this total chaos and dread, a house that we had admired from afar for many years came on the market in our neighborhood. The realtor listing the house is a friend. She gave us the head’s up it was going to be for sale and after only a few days on the market, she told us another family was getting ready to put in an offer. We were sitting in the hospital, unable to go see it or draft up an offer, thinking it was fate’s way of saying it just wasn’t right. But the offer from the other family still hadn’t come in by Saturday when we returned home from the hospital so we went over to see the inside… and fell in love. Feeling like we had to give it a shot, we threw an offer together quickly. Our realtor told the sellers about Brooks being in the hospital and how he loved the pond across the street from their house so much. And, well, whatever she said worked – because they accepted our offer! The other offer came in the same day as ours and certainly in enough time, but the sellers didn’t even look at it. They were so happy that “another loving family” would be living in their house. Everyone went to sleep that night, and I again found myself sleepless, still in shock about the life changing event that had taken place in the middle of such unhappiness. Talk about silver lining.

The only picture I have on my phone. Taken during a stalker drive by mission.

As crazy as the Kawasaki scare was with Brooks, I am so thankful for the care we received in the hospital, the way that the medicine worked so well with no side effects, and the great little sport that Brooks was. We were two days from launching our biggest effort of the year at work, and my colleagues selflessly jumped in and covered for me. We were flooded with good thoughts and prayers and emails and texts and calls.  We were so very lucky.

We roomed next door to an adorable little 18-month-old named Claire. Her parents told us they had been there for 137 days straight. Claire was getting chemo. Talk about perspective.

We gave her one of the get-well balloons that we had gotten as a gift, and she was beyond thrilled. She walked up and down the hallway with pride, showing off her new balloon to all the nurses.  After that, she smiled whenever she saw us. We had earned her friendship. I still get choked up every time I think about the simplicity of that moment and how resilient children are. 

Balloons!

We go back to Duke in a few weeks to do a repeat echocardiogram and make sure everything is still fine with his heart. After that, we're hoping to put this all behind us and focus on all the work ahead with the move and new house!