Monday, March 7, 2011

The Bullet Train

We weren’t doing anything, I swear.

We were just strolling down the boardwalk of life when BAM…the bullet train swept us up!


The Strep Bullet Train.

We went from a leisurely pace to supersonic speed in an instant. There was no going back. There was no getting off. We needed to stop the train before our fate turned to careening down the cliffs at the tracks end.

When you are on a bullet train your mind becomes jello. Every decision must be made instantly…and when there is urgency in your decisions, your decisions don’t come easily.

If I was on the boardwalk…I could have calmly and thoughtfully put together a plan of attack.

If we had warning…

But no warning allowed…Illness...BAM! Make decisions and make them now.

How do we stop the step train?

The doctor!

He couldn’t see us until the next day.

Playing the Type 1 Card didn’t work.

They did not care that my son could not, would not, eat or drink.

They did not care that my son NEEDED to eat and drink.

"Tomorrow," they say.

The night on the bullet train was eerily quiet…the calm before the storm. With every hour we could feel the train gain its momentum.

And the next morning? The engineer began to lose control.

Sips of water. Sips of Apple juice.

Throw up. Throw up. Throw up.

Doctor confirms strep…medicine given.

Throw up. Throw up. Throw up.

Ice cream?


Apple sauce?


Apple juice?




Ketones: 0.5


Tummy calms.


Throat is an angry raging mess of hurt.

Baby steps.

Baby sips.

The bullet train is losing steam...figuratively of course. Who knows what a bullet train runs on. Fear, maybe?

The train continues down its track…we are not allowed off…but yet it slows. And decisions come easier.

In a few days we will be allowed off.

And we will take our path, leisurely walking the boardwalk until the kidnapping terror of the bullet train sweeps up our family again.

When you see a train, think of many families that are dealing with the sick day…gripping their seats…praying for the train to slow. It is a scary ride. One we don’t have much control over.

We can only hold on tight and make split second decisions, hoping and praying the train will let us off at the next station.

It isn’t easy stopping a bullet train.


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