Just Like You

The dark stillness of past midnight descended upon the entirety of the ranch style home. The quiet ticking of the stove clock echoed across the dimly lit kitchen.  A seeming green haze emanated from the hall bathroom’s night light. Things were amiss. All was not well.  The thermometer registered a 106 plus degrees temperature. How is that even possible? I was trying to wrap my mind around the enormity of the situation. My thoughts wandered to sitting on flights during the safety briefings.

“Ladies and gentleman, in case of the loss of cabin pressure, oxygen masks will appear from the panel above your head. If this happens, place the yellow cup over your nose and mouth and adjust the mask if necessary… Be sure to adjust your own mask before you assist the small children in your party.”

1:30 AM. Adrenalin pumped through my veins bringing clarity of thought, unearthing many unanswerable questions. Any child with a temp over 105 can experience seizures. However, even a typical sickness could bring devastation to Carly, my youngest and physically most vulnerable child. Every illness required a calm, level head on my part, “Adjust your own mask before you assist the small children in your party.”

“God, please help.”

Can I get the fever down? Will we be in transit to the ER within the hour? What about Kathryn and Janae getting to school? Hospital stay? How long? Who can I call to help me when the sun begins to rise?  I need a substitute for school. If the fever goes down, how many hours until I can be seen at the doctor’s office?

Carly’s entire body, every cell, was impacted by the genetic code being disrupted at conception. She had three genes on her number 18 marker, trisomy 18. The vast majority  of her peers had already flown to heaven, Ninety percent before their first birthday. She had a large hole in her heart,   a VSD, and was cognitively delayed. Each day of her life qualified as a miracle, I was never shy,  in such circumstances,  to beseech The Father for one more.

“I need another miracle.”

I was extremely  particular about the water temperature. It needed to be tepid, warm enough that she would not go into shock,  and cool enough to help manage the heat of the fever. I utilized a washcloth to make sure her entire body would receive maximum benefit, but I was careful to keep her  unruly, curly hair from being completely doused.  She could go into shock if she became cold too swiftly. Her fragile exterior was unable to sit in the bathtub without support, therefore she had a child safety seat.  Although more than 5 years old, she was not yet 25 lbs. in body weight. I was grateful for this contraption. It afforded me a minute to sit and regroup once the tub was sufficiently filled. 106. Was there something wrong with the thermometer?

The relative silence, once the faucet ceased, afforded another sound to inform my senses.  A fluttering, swishing sound emerged.  The water was being stirred. The gentle movement was mild, tender, and familiar, so very familiar.  In the lime mist lighting the bathroom, I focused on Carly’s hands and feet. Her delicate fingers were slapping the surface of the water. This playful patty-cake type action was typical of her routine bath time. Her long, skinny legs were also pushing water back and forth in a rhythmic pattern. She was behaving as if this was just another night! How could that be?

My precious child, in a condition of an extremely elevated fever,  delighted in the  feel and resulting sounds, splishes and splashes,  of liquid against her skin! She was playing and enjoying herself.  I gazed at her in wonder of the beauty her spirit was displaying in this crisis. I considered how I would be feeling? What I would be doing? What I might be thinking in the middle of the night if I were extremely ill? I know  I would not be appreciating a simple pleasure  such as the sensation of water splashing. I studied her. The awe touching me deeply produced tears. I looked  directly into her eyes and stated with all earnestness, “Carly, when I grow up, I want to be just like you!” I meant every word. I thought I was caring for an ailing child. However,  her actions of enjoying life at the most strained of circumstances, she was teaching and transforming me!

We were afforded several minor miracles that consequential evening. The temperature relented sufficiently to avoid a trip to Wolfson Children’s Hospital. She was attended promptly the next morning by the doctor and diagnosed with a virus. Several days later, she was well. “You do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.” James 4:14.  In the face of eternity, whether you live on earth for one day or 100 years it is still a grain of sand on a beach in comparison to forever. We make choices each day how we respond to situations. Carly chose JOY (her middle name) as a pattern. That strength sustained her time after time when her health was threatened. She only spoke two discernable words throughout her earthly journey, “Da, Da, Da,” and “Ma, Ma, Ma,” yet she was a skilled professor in many aspects. May we all enjoy common pleasures even on difficult days. I won’t speak for anyone else, but I will continue to strive to attain this goal:  “Carly, when I grow up, I want to be just like you!”