Heroic rescue

Yesterday morning the phone rang seconds before my alarm went off at 6:30.  All week since Braeden has been at scout camp, I wondered whenever the phone rang or I got a text, if it was him.  He didn't take his cell phone but I'm a mother and my boy wasn't home so what can you do?

It was Braeden this time (on a borrowed phone) and because he's Braeden, he had waited until when he thought I would be awake before he called.  He was sick.   When I asked him if he wanted me to come and get him, he unequivocally said, "Yes."  Adam probably would have asked probing questions, made sure it was really necessary, perhaps encouraged him to stick it out.

I said I'd be there as soon as I could.  And I didn't care if it was a paper cut or a sniffle, if my boy called me and wanted me to come and get him, I was going.

(It occurs to me maybe that isn't always the best course of action a mother should take, but there it is.)

I got everything squared away that needed to be squared away at home with my other kids and headed out.

(I chatted with Olivia on the phone the whole way which was nice.)

(I managed to find the scout camp even though my sense of direction is deplorable which was nice.)

I found my boy.  He managed a wan smile and croaked out that he couldn't talk.  Through mostly pointing he managed to tell me where his campsite was.  He loaded up all his stuff   I looked around for some adult to tell that I was springing him from the camp but there was no one.  Braeden just pointed down the road.  I told him he reminded me of my dad or Tabor when he was sick.

(Although not quite as cranky as they can get because yikes.)

He usually grins when I tell him he reminds me of my dad or brothers but he just closed his eyes.

I offered to stop by McDonald's.  He shook his head no.

OK, then I got worried.  Never in the history of Braeden had that happened.  "A smoothie?" I offered, "A milkshake?"

No.

After a while he croaked out again, "You talk."

I told him some stories Marianne had told me about their recent trip to Nauvoo.  I told him a little about what we'd done at home.  We listened to music.  He scowled at the radio and finally turned it off.  When I gave him a little water to drink and he winced and nearly cried from the pain of swallowing it, I took him straight to the walk in clinic.

(I believe in antibiotics.)

He said, "You have to do the talking."

So I did. Like he was a baby again, I explained the symptoms.  (I also explained his disheveled appearance--he's been at scout camp...)

The doctor looked in his throat and actually gave a surprised noise.  "Is it sore?" he asked

"No," Braeden croaked, "It's my swollen glands and my ear."

"Hmpf," said the doctor, not believing him.  He looked in Braeden's ear.  "You're ear is fine," he said, "It's your throat."

"It's not sore," Braeden said in his raspy voice.

The doctor gave me a look and did another hmpf.  "Your throat is really swollen and has red spots," he said.

Braeden was tested for strep and mono--both which came back negative.  The doctor seemed unwilling to give up on strep though and gave us a prescription anyway.  I took Braeden home (and bought him a milkshake on the way home--he didn't finish it!).  I gave him three Advil and he took a three hour nap.  When he woke up I gave him a tall glass of juice.

And just like that I had my boy back.  He was revived.  He told me a little about the camp.  He moved from room to room to be with me.  He obediently took his medicine and more Advil.

He cracked a few jokes and even laughed which sounded more like squawking but I don't mind.

I'm glad he's feeling a little better.  I'm glad I could give him medicine.  I'm glad he's home.

Once he had caught me up a little on the camp (he still didn't want to talk much), he started to read my blog.  He's one of my most dedicated readers and I think I mostly write here for my children and Adam so that's fitting.  (Sometimes they dispute my characterization of them to which I say, "Write your own blog then.") After he'd read awhile he asked, "Are you going to write about you heroically rescuing me today?'

And so here I have.