7.4.14

It was midnight, booms of final fireworks intermittently punctuating the quiet of a surprisingly cool Fourth of July night.  We were all ready for bed and settling in. Chris in our bed downstairs, Alex in his place upstairs, Cousin David in one guest room and I was in the other.  Then, Alex heard commotion from Chris, thought he heard his Dad wandering, and then the sound of a fall.

This was altogether not the day I had expected.  What I had planned was to welcome more friends making final visits with Chris, reminiscing, comforting, and sharing food and drink.

Instead, in the early morning, Alex presented me with the frightening sight of his elbow, angry with swelling, and a clearly demarkated central wound with striations of redly pathed infection running up into his armpit.  He had a fever and felt terrible.

Friends arrived, hoping for a last visit with Chris, but were instead met with me in full flush of mommy angst: What is happening to Alex?  What needs to be done? How can this be happening now?  Olivia arrived to manage Chris and I rushed Alex to an immediate care center.  He was diagnosed with cellulitis (probably a spider bite?), given an antibiotic shot in the butt and sent home with two oral antibiotics, still feeling sick.  We were told to watch him closely because this might be the kind of infection that would require inpatient care.

What the hell is that saying about "you only get as much as you can handle"?  I call BS.

Still, we got through the rest of the afternoon and evening, kind of tired and spent.