Fen, the blog name of our 2-year-old grandson, became ill on the ride home from their Florida vacation. By the next evening he looked like a child suffering from the mumps, an illness that some of us remember from our own childhood.
The doctor on call told Fen's parents to get him to the hospital immediately as a ping-pong ball sized lump on the throat is something that needs immediate attention. A CT scan showed an abscess that required surgery.
Yesterday was a surreal experience, both pre- and post-operative. The underlying illness also caused him to suffer from a high fever. We were very thankful that by the time we left the hospital last night this had broken.
This afternoon Pastor Dad received a phone call from Fen asking if we'd come play. His worn out parents were reaching the end of their reserves when it came to keeping the recovering toddler occupied so when Fen asked to call his mother gladly dialed our number.
When we got there he was still hooked up to the i.v. (which he hates) and was in a hospital gown (which he also hates) but he looked quite presentable in his own pajama bottoms. The hated i.v. stand didn't hinder him much as he climbed over and under beds. We talked the nurses into providing boxes of Brio train sets that we could build on the floor. (Even post-surgery the little guy had more energy than we did!)
Once he tired of the in-room play, his parents and I took him on a walk. When we reached the elevators we pushed the button and he pointed at the door that he insisted would be the one to open. Since there were at least four of them the odds didn't seem to be in his favor, but somehow I wasn't surprised when the desired one opened. Those in the family will understand this comment that I made to Princess, "Your son seems to have inherited your 'orange gumball' magic." She grinned and nodded.
We joined several other families walking patients through the lobby. There are child-level buttons to push, colorful murals and decorations with interesting lighting and three-dimensional features designed to entertain the little ones who pass that way. At one point Fen wistfully watched the cars outside coming and going and his look made me wonder if he would make a break for it if he caught us off our guard. He is obviously ready to say his farewells. All the pain, poking, and prodding is beyond his comprehension.
In spite of his strenuous objections we made our way back to his room. The activity had helped to expend his pent-up energy and he was ready for a nap. He was successfully corralled in the bed and we left when he dozed off. The play date was over.
We're praying that our little guy will be well enough to be released tomorrow. But we're very thankful to have a quality facility such as Cincinnati Children's Hospital nearby when one of the youngest members of our family needs the care that they so ably provide.
Remember this little man in your prayers, please. He has been such a brave little fellow!
