Save vs. Disease

Edited 2010 Dec 14: Corrected some formatting and spelling. At the time I wrote this on my iPhone, I wasn't in a frame of mind to be picky. Looking at it again due to linking to this story, I couldn't let those errors go.

A day or so after we arrived back home from our (long, exhausting) trip back from West Virginia, Hanna's brother did me a huge favor; he called to say that he and his girlfriend were coming down to spend the weekend, meaning I could attend my instructor's promotion to 8th dan without leaving Hanna to care for two babies by herself.

I purchased plane tickets to Denver, and made reservations for Super Shuttle to take me to and from the airport. Saturday morning at 3:00 AM, I was standing outside on the street, waiting for my ride and excited to have a weekend completely to myself.

The trip east was a pleasure, despite the small hour. In comparison to traveling with two infants, their car seats, a double stroller, and the almost 50 pounds of baby luggage (not counting what Hanna and I brought for ourselves), getting to the plane with nothing but my day pack felt like a huge luxury. I was in such a good mood, in fact, that the nonsensical policies and security theater forced on air travelers by the TSA didn't even annoy me.

After arriving in Denver, I had a fine breakfast at a dim-sum restaurant; even better, I got to surprise a friend, who was celebrating his birthday and didn't know I was going to be in town.

After a fine meal, I headed off to Grand Master Sereff's dojang to attend the promotion. I got to surprise many old friends, not the least of which was Mr. Pologe himself. I also got a surprise of my own; Master Renée Sereff chose to read some of my letters to her about the twins, using my words as an example of how Mr. Pologe taught his students to extend the lessons of Taekwon-Do outside the dojang. I was a bit embarassed, but also honored.

After the festivities were over, I spent the remainder of the weekend relaxing with friends -- board games at Jason's place, dinner with Taekwon-Do classmates, playing with Nick and Laurel's dog Lita, an ice cream run to Glacier, video games, sitting in the jaccuzi while sipping hot toddies and watching it snow. I headed back to the airport Sunday evening feeling relaxed and refreshed. Sure, Hanna had called once, concerned about Duncan; apparently I'd escaped a rough weekend of crying and crankiness from my eldest son. But he was teething, and had likely caught a cold from his recent adventures to Texas and West Virginia. I would be home in a few hours, and I figured that in the worst case I'd be staying up late holding a tired baby.

This turned out to be true, but my worst case scenario had many of the details wrong.

Hanna called me while I was on my way to DIA; Duncan had gotten worse, and she had decided to take him to the clinic. By the time I'd gotten through security and to my gate, I had another message from Hanna saying that Duncan had a possible bone infection, and they were being transferred to Stanford Medical Center. Educating myself on bone infections didn't do much to relieve my tension, but that was all I could do until I got back home (though I did have a pricate laugh at the thought of trying to tip the pilot: "Hey, pal, there's an extra fifty in it for you if you can land this bird in San Jose ahead of schedule.").

I got back to Silicon Valley a little before midnight, and caught the shuttle home. I was in the house just long enough to find the number of a local cab service and schedule a pickup, then it was back on the curb to wait. The taxi was quite prompt, and took me directly to the ER at Stanford, where I found my wife in a tiny room holding a tired Duncan, with his brother sleeping in his car sear close by.

I should point out how amazing Hanna was in dealing with all of this. She was calm, cool, and collected. She'd single handledly carried both babies in their car seats, as well as the diaper backpack and food for herself. She had steeled herself against fear and panic, helping the ER staff x-ray Duncan's foot and start him on antibiodics. I've always known that Hanna comes from a line of tough-as-nails Appalachian women. I've known women like this all of my life. Women that are polite and and kind to a fault, but when backed into a corner become unstoppable. When the stakes are high, you'd best either be part of the solution or out of the way, because to be part of the problem would almost certainly not go well for you. I know that Hanna comes from this kind of stock, but it is still impressive to see that will and tenacity on display.

Of course, even Hanna can't run at full throttle continuously, and as soon as I arrived I did my best to pick up as much of the load as possible. Soon after Hanna had brought me up to date on everything, we were transferred to the children's hospital, where they could do longer-term care. Once there, we met with the medical team treating Duncan and discussed the plan going forward. By this time it was almost 2:00 AM, and I sent Hanna and Tristan home to get some much needed rest. As I was already packed from my weekend trip, it was no problem for me to stay at the hospital overnight.

That's where I've been ever since. Hanna and Tristan have been visiting, but to add another small kink to the experience they both came down with a cold, and the hospital (rightfully) frowns on people spreading germs in their facility. Camping out at the hospital hasn't been so bad; Duncan's diagnosis has improved steadily, and he is responding well to the antibiodics. If it wasn't for the IV in his arm, you'd never know he was ill. If all goes well, he'll be out of the hospital and taking oral antibiodics at home in a few days.

For me, it's been a vacation in some respects. I only have one kid to tend to, and being at the hospital means I don't feel compelled to work on anything on my to-do list. Instead, I've been sleeping when I'm tired, and reading when I'm not. The hospital has been providing my meals, so I don't even have to cook for myself. Duncan and I have gone on several walks, looking at the art in the hallways of the hospital or enjoying the California sunshine in the cafeteria
courtyard. He continues to charms the doctors and nurses, and quickly gained a reputation for being full of smiles. I'm sure having a child in the hospital is never an easy thing for a parent, but since his prognosis is excellent and he is receiving such great care, at the moment I have no cause for worry or stress.