The Day Our Lives Changes
In February of 2019, our world shifted. All of our son’s symptoms were seemingly attributed to being a growing boy and fighting what I thought was mono: Feeling constantly thirsty (I thought due to playing so much), and frequently having to pee and then wetting the bed (what I thought was from all the water he was drinking). Finally, on February 12th everything changed.
It was a bitterly cold and gray northern New York Tuesday. The chilling air could be felt in your bones even though the wood stove was burning in the basement. Josiah, my second-born and only son, slowly made his way down the stairs that morning. He was five years old.
“Something is wrong inside my body,” he said with his squeaky, tired little voice. “What do you mean, bud?” I was sitting in front of our space heater to feel the blanket's warmth on that extra cold day.
“I mean when I sleep, my body is ok. But when I wake up, something is wrong inside my body,” he said.
“Ok bud, maybe you're getting sick. Lay down and rest, I'll get you some water and breakfast.”
He slumped in front of the space heater next to me, wrapped in his Spiderman blanket. He was in and out of sleep all day in front of that space heater, only to wake when I'd check on him and make him sip or nibble anything of substance. I remember thinking, “MONO! That's it! This must be mono.” My husband Josh was sick with mono before we had kids and it made him lethargic, too. I was certain that's what my son must be struggling to fight off.
That night came, Josh was home late from work and said, “Hey bud, why don't you go upstairs brush your teeth, and get into bed I'll be right up.” His frail little body scuffed over to the bottom of the stairs where he collapsed.
“I can't daddy, can you carry me?” he whispered. Even his vocal cords were too tired to work right. The stairs looked like a daunting mountain that he couldn’t climb.