2016/12/05

Last weekend we drove home from Utah, finally picking up everything from our storage unit now that our cabinets are in and we actually have space for our kitchen things. It felt like a big step forward—until everything else started unraveling.

Anthony was really sick but still went to work, leaving the U-Haul for me to unload. I went to school, came home feeling awful myself, and ended up sleeping most of Tuesday. That night, Sammy mentioned his neck hurting—something he’d been saying on and off for a couple of weeks. With all of us being sick and the long drive, I brushed it off as just soreness or a lingering cold.

I wish I hadn’t.

It wasn’t until he showed Anthony the swelling that we realized something was really wrong. There was a large bump on his neck, and suddenly all those little complaints felt much heavier. That’s been sitting with me—the feeling of not catching it sooner, of not being as in tune as I should have been.

I got him in to see a doctor on Wednesday (not his regular one), and she started him on antibiotics but told me to follow up with his primary doctor on Friday.

Thursday, I was still sick and just trying to get through the day. I had no idea what was coming. We still thought it was a simple infection that the medication would take care of.

Instead of resting, I got a call from Zack’s school—he had hurt his thumb. I rushed to get him and called Kaiser, hoping for a quick visit to minor injuries, but they sent us to the ER. And yes… I had the baby with me.

Three hours in the ER with a hurt kid and a restless baby felt like a marathon. After that experience, I asked my sister if she could watch the kids for Sammy’s follow-up the next day. Zack ended up being okay—no break, just pulled ligaments—but it was still a lot. I even went to math class that night, somehow.

By Friday, everything escalated.

I took Sammy to his appointment at 10 a.m., expecting a quick visit and then home. Instead, his doctor sent us straight to an ear, nose, and throat surgeon. He examined Sammy, stepped out, and made a call. When he came back, everything had shifted. He told us to go directly to the ER. He had already called ahead and said Sammy would likely be admitted for IV antibiotics and further testing. With the weekend coming, they didn’t want to waste any time.

A few hours later, we were told he needed surgery.

Watching him wake up afterward was one of the hardest moments I’ve ever had as a mom. He was terrified, screaming, “I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe. Don’t touch me.” I was trying so hard to stay calm for him, telling him to breathe, to slow down—but inside, I felt completely helpless. The tears came whether I wanted them to or not. There’s nothing like seeing your child in pain and not knowing how to fix it.

That was the moment I knew Anthony and I both needed to be there with him. Thankfully, my sister stepped in without hesitation to take care of the other kids.

Once they gave him pain medication, he finally settled and slept through the night. The next morning, he woke up asking when his surgery was going to happen. When I told him it already had, he didn’t believe me.

The doctor said they sent samples—pus, blood, and fluid—from his neck to the lab, and we should have answers in a few days. He has a post-op appointment tomorrow, so we’re hoping for more clarity then.

For now, we’re just taking it one step at a time.

That’s the update—for anyone who’s been wondering. 💛