Monday July 15th, 2013

The exercise:

Write about: the scream.

To quote myself from yesterday: "Back to the garden tomorrow."

To quote myself just now, after reading that: "Or not."

Mine:

Around five o'clock this morning Max woke up screaming.

This was not a hungry scream. This was not a bumped head against the crib scream. This was not a bad dream scream.

This was a pain scream. An acute, unrelenting pain scream.

We've never seen him so inconsolable. He wouldn't eat, changing him did nothing. Eventually he stopped though, which was very briefly great.

And then he started to go limp while gasping for breath.

I'm reasonably certain that I have never been so terrified in my entire life.

We called 911 but by the time the ambulance arrived Max was doing much better. As they were loading him and Kat into the back so that they could take him to the hospital in Oliver he was already smiling and acting more like his usual self.

The emergency room doctor in Oliver couldn't tell us what happened but was reasonably sure it wouldn't happen again. Just one of those things that happens to babies sometimes. But if we wanted a second opinion we were welcome to head to Penticton to see a pediatrician.

We did.

The pediatrician also couldn't tell us what had happened, but he did want to keep Max overnight for observation. So I went home to collect some of our things while Kat stayed with him. By the time I got back Max had been doing so well for so long that the pediatrician changed his mind and offered to let us go home.

We chose instead to spend the night at Kat's aunt and uncle's place in Penticton, just five minutes away from the hospital.

Max is still doing great, which is a relief. Hopefully this was in fact a one time deal and we won't have to deal with a day like this ever again.

2 Comments:

Greg said...

Oh wow, that's pretty scary for you! It probably is a one-time thing, just like everyone's saying though :) Especially since he's now been seen by two doctors and has had a good night. But I know how terrifying it is when someone you care for (and, in your own mind at least, are supposed to be looking after!) suddenly starts doing something you can't explain and looks that bad.
I hope you and Kat are feeling better after the shock and that day too :)

The scream
Standing on the bridge to nowhere, he screamed. He thrust his chest forward, his shoulders back, inhaled as deeply as he could, and let out all of his rage and frustration and disappointment is one big blast of sound. The scream echoed off the sides of the gorge, bouncing back and forth and adding reverb to the primality of it all.
When he ran out of air in his lungs the scream died away, and he sagged a little, folding in on himself. Around him the screaming continued as the echoes carried on.
A minute later, the screaming was still ongoing and he stood resting his arms on the bridge's railing, staring out in the misty gorge. There was nothing to be seen, just the unending scream weaving back and forth, wrapping itself around him and then untangling itself and disappearing to the end of the gorge again, before coming back.
Ten minutes later and it was still screaming, and he walked back across the bridge, wondering just what he'd done.
One year later and the bridge was now known as the Bridge of Screams, and people wrote learned treatises on the odd natural sound effects that made the gorge sound as though it was screaming. He knew better though.

Marc said...

Greg - happy to report he's still doing just fine. But yes, that was a difficult day.

Great details in this one. And I like how it's not so far fetched... I could totally see this happening somewhere!