March 18, 2013 at 9:08 pm , by Nick Shell

2 years, 4 months.

Dear Jack,

It seems like only a year ago that you had your febrile seizure.

And it seems like only two days ago on your 2.333rd birthday that I said this:

“You haven’t had another [febrile seizure] since; in fact, the last time you were even sick at all was last July.

As your dad, I am so grateful and thankful for your health, safety, and general well-being.

I don’t worry about you, but I am constantly aware of what precious cargo you are and how I responsible I need to be for you.”

With that being said, I had to take you to the ER today at Vanderbilt Children’s Hospital because you were slipping into another febrile seizure.

I’m more of a romanticized, big picture, spare-me-the-technical-details kind of storyteller, so I’ll just regurgitate the highlights as best as I remember them happening over the past 24 hours:

Mommy had already left late for work due to a tornado warning, you had a fever of 105, I gave you fever-reducing medicine, we were watching Hard Hat Harry’s All About Monster Trucks, you starting shivering, I took off your clothes, your lips looked like they were going numb…

As I held you while talking to the nurse on the phone, you started convulsing like you did in last year’s febrile seizure…

When you did that it scared me, which then scared you, which caused you to wake up from the first three seconds of this year’s febrile seizure…

The nurse on the phone said to bring you to the ER instead of the pediatrician’s office, I threw your clothes in a Kroger bag, I by default imagined myself as Bruce Willis in the Die Hard movies as we drove through the post-tornado warning weather to the hospital…

I remember snapping my fingers a lot to keep you awake as I drove you there, saying, “Stay with me, son! Wake up! Don’t fall asleep! Listen, I’m snapping my fingers like Hard Hat Harry does…”.

When we got there, I found out you had caught a case of Roseola, which had caused your temperature to spike, setting your body up to go into seizure mode.

Thank God, you’re okay… again.

It was scarier for me this 2nd time because I didn’t have Mommy or an ambulance. I kept telling you, “You’re going to be okay, son. Daddy’s taking care of you. Hang with me…”.

I knew what I was saying was true, but at the same time my trust was in God, not myself.

Navigating my way to the ER in post-tornadic weather, trying to find out where to park once I got there (!), and keeping you from falling into another seizure because I hated the thought of your seizing while I drove 65 mph on the interstate in the wind and rain…

Well, I really do feel like Bruce Willis in a Die Hard movie right now.

As for you having another febrile seizure, A) I’m becoming a pro at what to do now and B) I’ll going ahead and mark my calendar for next March, so hopefully I can jinx it.

 

Love,

Daddy