Ben & Shae Cecka's family in Gilbert, AZ

I’ve known for a while this week would be full and potentially stressful. Two little boys to bbsit, a wedding cake to decorate, Ben out of town for a day, goodies to bake and packages to send. I’m sure there were more on the list, but a particular incident cleared my mind of all other responsibilities today and I am having a time working to get them all back in the noodle. Paper. The list is our friend.

Approximately 9am this morning I was making chocolate chewy bars and I gave Johnathan a walnut. I have given him walnuts before. He is allergic to peanuts and after smearing other nut butters on his skin I had concluded that he is not allergic to tree nuts.
Aye.

So we all know about his eczema, right. Well he starts to scratching and I put a long sleeve shirt on him over a thick layer of cream to ease his irritation and he didn’t stop. I lifted up his sleeves to look at his arms again and they were covered in bumps. Both arms seemed to be swelling and I pleaded him to stop scratching. I tried to distract him from his irritation and I looked up at his face and I think I could feel the color drain from mine, when I saw the classic food allergy bumps around his mouth that I know and have seen on him before. This time it was much worse.

I could not have picked up the phone any faster to dial 911. I am so tired of waiting for the help line to call back, and driving to the doctors, and not getting any answers. As time goes on his allergy sensitivity seems to get worse and the thought of my son’s throat closing frightens me beyond belief. There is a lack of shyness that comes with motherhood. I’ve always been afraid to call for help until now. With a child there is no hesitation.
“My child ate a walnut, he is allergic to peanuts, he has a rash, he is breathing heavily, he is a year old, this is my phone number, this is my address, and yes, the condition has worsened since I’ve been on the phone.”

I must take a minute out to say how much I LOVE people in emergency and medical professions. 911 opps, emts, paramedics, firefighters, police and everyone else behind the scene.
GOD BLESS ‘EM.

There is a fire station just two minutes from my house and that is how long it took for the sirens to come. The fire truck drove up first, pausing a few houses away. I walked out to flag them over and the ambulance was right behind. One firefighter asked me if Johnathan was “the one” and I nodded. He told me to take him to the back of the ambulance and almost did it for me when he saw that I was barefoot. I refused. Those who know where I live know there is a bit of abrasive gravel outside my yard. And those who know me know I am difficult to help. And any one who is, or knows a parent, knows that I would walk barefoot over nails and broken glass in the snow to get my child help.
The paramedic asked for the car seat and I was all fired up and ready to ride to the hospital in the back of the ambulance barefoot, stinky, in my pajamas and with nothing but the sippy cup that Johnathan carried out with him. After his vitals were checked I was encouraged to go back inside for shoes, a diaper bag, cell phone to call my husband and a favorite teddy bear to keep little Djai company. I’m surprised I thought clearly enough to turn off the oven!
Johnathan was given a benadryl shot and we were on our way, after the garbage truck pulled up, one of the firefighters offered to drag out my can if I had forgotten. “Pace yourself buddy, today is going to be a hot one,” I heard the other say to the trash guy. How wonderful is all of that.
I called Ben and got his voice-mail. I hung up. He never checks his messages. Called again. Left a message saying I was taking Djai to the hospital. I must have said “don’t worry, everything is okay, we are just being safe” so many times that I must have given him reason to worry.
On the way to the hospital the rash cleared, his breathing returned to normal and I heard many times what a good boy he was being, and how good he looked now. Did I feel embarrassed for making a big fuss? Of course not. I was a little embarrassed I had not taken a shower yet though. yech. Sorry guys.
The woman in the back with me told the driver the road was closed and he had to go another way. We arrived at the hospital and I was glad it was not an emergency anymore because we walked into a quiet, empty lobby were people slowly walked out of the woodwork and didn’t seem to know what was going on or who was supposed to do what or where we were supposed to be and what-not. I smiled. Boy was I glad Ji was okay at that point. I am a very understanding person, but I would have gone ballistic if he needed help and everyone was stammering about. New hospital and unfamiliar procedures or not.

The nurses and doctor were wonderful, and couldn’t really offer me much advise but “no more nuts!”

He has had walnuts before. He’s been fine. Now he is allergic?! He did the same thing with tomatoes. He ate them for a long time and one day he just started having a reaction to it. It scares me. What will it be next? And will his reaction be worse? The E.R. doc told me that especially if his pcp said his eczema was possibly diet related, he could see an allergist, but that most people wont want to see him so being so young. It is an uncomfortable procedure I hear. But how comfortable is he now with his rash? And what about the time he eats that one wrong thing that could turn out to be fatal? It is definitely something I will ask about. A few moments of pain- is it worth the end to guessing and gambling?
Johnathan put up very little fight for his mom-snuggled-nap. I felt a surge of panic as I realized I had responsibilities to attend to, and the stress dissipated when I couldn’t remember what it was, and I decided nothing was more important that what I had in my arms. I sang.
I called Ben again when the nurse said the discharge papers were coming. I knew this was a busy day for him and I thought for sure he’d finally answer the phone, mad at me for calling so many times. He answered and I could hear the air brushing past the phone. “Where are you?”
“Here.”
“Where?” I pictured the bus stop by the house.
“At the hospital. I’m running.”
What a man, what a man. My cell phone signal at the hospital must have been blocked at some point when Ben tried to call back, Julie told me, who had to take Dakota with to her job interview today because her babysitter was at the hospital! At least I remembered to turn off the oven.
What a day, what a day. Now, what was I supposed to do before all this happened? Tomorrow I promise I will pay.

For now, sleep. mmmmm.