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 Angela's
Journal
December 5, 2004
Is
Your Child Sick (Part 1)
The girls and I have gathered around the TV for the
annual viewing of A Charlie Brown Christmas,
and I’ve heard Donny Hathaway, The Whispers and
Harry Connick, Jr. share their version of “This
Christmas.” Yep, ‘tis the season to be jolly
as the kids sit at the tree every night, shaking presents
in hopes of discovering each intricately wrapped gift’s
contents.
Although shelling out bucks for needless toys is not
my favorite pastime, the blessing lies in the reality
of having children to purchase gifts for. I was recently
reminded of how priceless my true blessings (Shani and
Samara) really are.
Prior to leaving out of town on a writing assignment,
I prepared Josie, my dutiful assistant, with lists and
more lists, labeled foods and medications, phone numbers
and everything else that I thought she would need to
take care of my children in my absence. I had even gone
as far as scheduling weekend co-parent visits with their
father to relieve Josie of some of the childcare responsibilities.
I just knew that I had prepared everyone for my 16-day
out-of-town gig.
While gone, I called daily to chat with the kids and
speak with Josie, who warned me that Samara’s
“eye infection” had not completely went
away. Yes, I left home with a sick child, but I thought
that Samara was healing from her “allergies”
and “constipation.” I just knew that my
motherly instincts of prescribing eye drops and prune
juice would clear up Samara’s eyes and tummy.
Samara’s swollen eyes usually subsided within
an hour and she had begun pooping more before I left
town. So, I opted not to take her to the doctor. Wrong
decision on my part.
By the end of my first week, the girls’ dad called
me panicking about Samara’s eyes, and he too,
was concerned about Samara’s apparently bloated
stomach. Within the five days that I was gone, Samara’s
stomach had swollen so much that she was unable to wear
the majority of her jeans, and had begun to complain
about having an upset stomach. I prayed and hoped for
the best after Josie and I decided to send Samara to
our family physician. After what seemed like minutes,
Josie called and told me that our doctor had called
“911,” requesting an ambulance dart my 5
year-old off to the nearest hospital. My heart stopped.
Samara? My baby? What’s going on? Calm, cool and
collected Josie tried to keep me calm, and assured me
that she’d call back once she found out from the
doctors in the emergency room what was going on with
Samara.
I soon began pining away at all the years of advice
I had received from countless pediatricians and nurses
about always taking kids to the doctor at the slight
whim of any sickness. However, Samara is a tough kid.
She never complains and the only times I know she doesn’t
feel well is when she speaks up. Shani, on the other
hand, complains about every ailment possible. No two
children are alike. So, I assumed that all was well
at home. I assumed that any illness trying to attack
Samara would soon subside. Wrong assumption.
I went into tears and deep prayer after speaking with
the Emergency Room pediatrician who called to let me
know that Samara was being transferred to Children’s
Hospital Los Angeles – a place, in my mind, where
really sick children get help. The pediatrician told
me that he spoke to a renal (kidney) specialist about
Samara’s condition. It turned out that my little
child has Nephrotic Syndrome, a disease that affects
our body’s filtering system. By the time Samara
had reached the emergency room from our doctor’s
office, her face, hands, arms, legs and stomach were
swollen beyond recognition. All resulting from toxins
that remained in her bloodstream because her kidneys
were not doing their job. Wow! The Emergency Room pediatrician
told me that he sent Samara to Children’s Hospital,
where they knew how to treat the disease, along with
pneumonia, peritonitis, high blood pressure and a high
fever that Samara also had. My quiet child was quietly
fighting for her life.
God Bless, Angela
shaniadura@netzero.net
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