Tuesday, February 7, 2017

A tale of two mothers

Do you ever have one of those days where everything is turned on its head and at the end of it all you can do is shake your head and think, what happened?!?

Yesterday was one of those days.

When Braeden started emailing, he told us about a health problem he was having.  As I asked more questions it seemed like it was more than what the mission nurse was thinking it was.  I emailed him that I thought he should go to the doctor.

He (wisely) suggested I talk to the mission nurse myself.  (My children know enough to sic me on people they can't make progress with.)  I had also talked with the lady who lived at the house from which Braeden was emailing me.  She described his symptoms and I wanted him to go to the doctor.

I called the mission nurse and there were two mothers.  The warlike Mama Bear and the mother who was trying to be calm and remember Adam's counsel that what mattered were the results.  I tried to make her my ally.  She said she'd talked to him the previous day and he was fine.  I insisted he was not fine.  She finally relented to call him.

Within minutes she called me back and said, "He's on his way to urgent care."

OK then.

A while later, President Weed, the mission president, called Adam to let him know that he was on the way to the hospital.

And that was about all we knew.

I wondered why President Weed had called Adam rather than me but then I realized it was probably because Adam promptly forgot the name of the hospital and if he'd call the mother, she would have not only remembered the name but she would have shown up at the hospital....

Braeden had managed to send out an email earlier for his group email list.  In it he mentioned he was sick.  I got an immediate reply from his aunt Whitney in Atlanta.  She said she was 10 hours away if I needed her.  Rebecca texted.  What did I need?  Stella called.  What was the situation?

And that was pretty much how the day went.  The original lady I'd spoken with, Sister Hunter, called me several times.  She told me how much she loves Braeden.  "He brought the light back into my life," she said.

When your son is basically the embodiment of sunlight, people love him.  I can't take any credit for any of it because he came that way.

He was admitted to the hospital and slated for surgery to take care of an abscess and he's on major doses of antibiotics for cellulitis.

And then there were the two mothers again.  There was the mother and then there was the missionary mother.  The mother wondered how long it would take me to be on a plane Virginia bound.  The missionary mother was trying to leave the situation in the capable hands of the mission president and let my boy be a missionary.

Rebecca was with him.  She went and bought him comfy clothes.  She kept me updated.  I'll never be able to repay her kindness.

It was opening night of Emma's show!  There were two mothers again--the one whose heart was in a hospital in Virginia and then the other one, whose heart was on a stage in a high school musical.  Adam told me to turn off my phone and enjoy the show.

And I did!  (I checked messages during the intermission.)

The show was great.  Emma was great.  I loved it.  They are talented kids and they worked hard.  I didn't take many pictures but I will go three more times and I'm sure I'll be less distracted.

Here's a picture after the show of Emma with one of the girls in our ward.

Adam snapped a few pictures at the curtain call:

Desi came to watch the show too (Clarissa wanted to, but had to work).  Afterward we went to The Purple Turtle for milkshakes.  I spent most of the time on the phone with Rebecca--and then Braeden!  His mission rules are relaxed while he's in the hospital so I can talk to him.

Silver lining!

After the phone call I tried to turn my focus back to Emma.  The Swensons came in and sat at the table next to us and we exchanged congratulations because Fiona was Martha and rocked a Yorkshire accent and Anne Swenson, her mother, told Emma that no one can do red lipstick like she can.

It's pretty much true.

Sometime later we learned that the surgery would be early the next morning and Rebecca was staying at the hospital with Braeden overnight.  She will be forever immortalized in our family.  She is amazing.  That is all.

She sent me a picture of him when he was finally asleep and he was wearing his white shirt and name tag.   I commented on it and she sent me this picture:

He wanted the nurses to call him Elder Davis.  Because that is who he wants to be right now.

I had a sleepless night.  I dozed a little but mostly had a clenched stomach and racing thoughts.

At 4:20 by phone rang and it was Braeden!  He was on his way to surgery and called to check in.  After that I had a steady stream of texts and updates from Rebecca.  A little after 6:00 I got the message he was out of surgery and all had gone well.

This morning I've spoken with him and he seems to be on the mend.  Besides the mission nurse, Rebecca is there with him and Stella is on her way to his side.

I guess what it comes down to is that there are more than just two mothers.

I couldn't be more grateful.


Jennifer said...

I can't even begin to imagine the shape your heart had to be in to endure a day and night like that. I love you and admire you and all the amazing people you have on your team.

Marianne Johnson said...

Oh, this just makes me cry!

Gwilliam Fam said...

Crying reading this. I'm sorry Thelma. So hard.

Anonymous said...

Oh my goodness! Bless your missionary mommy heart! This post was hard for me to read, as my son was very sick on his mission in Central America and I could not be there to help him. Brought back all those helpless memories. I'm glad your son had someone with him who sent you frequent updates. A tender mercy to be sure.


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