Landon in the Hospital

Landon was admitted to the hospital today.  Didn't see that coming.  Yesterday, he had a persistent cough.  Today, when he woke up at six, he was really struggling to breathe.  His chest was pinching down on itself in a motion I have since learned is "retractions".  He was breathing fast and shallow, though he had just gotten up.

I drove him to the ER.  We quickly got past the screener.  We quickly got a room, a pulse-ox? detector, and asked a series of questions that would get increasingly more familiar each time someone new would ask them all again.  (Sometimes it felt like we kept getting readmitted to this same hospital)

It is 9:30 pm and he is finally sleeping in the huge metal crib that is kind of a cross between a cage and something you would see in an asylum.  As soon as we walked into this room and I saw it, the day took on a strange quality about it.  Really?  My baby is going to be in that clanging, imposing contraption?  We're really at a hospital now, mama.  I just didn't expect it to feel a bit like a time-traveling moment, too.

  The day dragged on with a series of pokes, and prods, looks and listens, thumping on his chest with a rubber mallet, and blowing vaporized drugs into Landon's face.  It ended with a cocktail of six different drugs administered by syringe that Landon took to like a little bird. 

Did I just say, "the day ended..."?  Who am I kidding?  Landon just awoke.  He will be woken numerous times tonight for more drugs, more vapors, more pounding.  I predict that none of us will get a good night's sleep.  Bill and I will wake up crabby, it will be nostalgic of his infancy, and both will have to extend grace to the other for our prickliness.  Add a crying, screaming, whining, writhing love of our lives whom we hate to see suffer, and all I can say is, I hope they have chocolate muffins on the breakfast menu.

I have one cd in the player my mom brought me from the house.  I have the last song on repeat.  It is Michael Card's beautiful rendition of "The Lord Bless You and Keep You."  An acapella version with overlapping voices.  I love it.  I can hear another child screaming down the hall.  I can see my husband's tired brow as he rocks Landon.  I can see Landon holding onto peace with such a tenuous grasp.

And over and over I hear this:

The Lord bless you and keep you
The Lord make His face shine upon you
And give you peace
And give you peace
And give you peace forever

The Lord be gracious to you
The Lord turn His face toward you
And give you peace
And give you peace
And give you peace forever


I am most grateful that "forever" can start right now.
With the hiss of machines my son is hooked up to,
With our family praying for us,
With a blessing being sung over all of us,

Peace forever.