So Saturday morning rolled around and we all rolled out of bed and got ready for the day. The plan was to babysit Gates, the adorable 2-year-old of one of the ladies Tim is singing with, and then half-way through the day they were all going to come back and we'd all go to the Nebraska State Fair together.
So the singers all left and I settled into handing out snacks and trying to find things to do.
I had some trail mix from our drive, and I had a little and so had to share. I was even careful when I handed some to Dan to remove any nuts he'd never tasted--he got chocolate chips and almonds, things he'd had many times before.
But it wasn't like before. He ate ONE almond and immediately said, "My throat feels wrong."
This time I didn't wait. I dropped everything and RAN into the bathroom and gave him a dose of bendadryl, and then watched as he kept trying to clear his throat and got more uncomfortable.
I was on the edge of panicking. Here was me, sitting with six kids, heavily pregnant, in a strange city. Not enough car seats for all the kids. Nobody to watch the other 5 kids. No idea where the hospital was. No idea how to get ahold of a member of the church. No phone books. And no adults with cell phones that I could reach. I knew Dan needed a blessing and possibly a rush to the emergency room, and I couldn't get those things.
Then I remembered Tim gave me a blessing a week ago that said that God would not deny us any blessing we needed just because Tim wasn't available. So Dan and I went into the other room from the other kids and we prayed, fervently and with more faith than I've ever had before. I was trusting that the blessing I got before was going to save my baby's life now. We prayed and then I dug out the epi-pen, but didn't use it.
Immediately, Dan's breathing in his chest and throat cleared out, so he could take deep, deep breaths. He was suddenly breathing quietly and clearly, and the asthma cough disappeared completely, and he stopped sticking his tongue out. Instead, his nose swelled up (instantly) like he'd been punched in the face, and the insides of his outer ears swelled. Nose and ears swollen doesn't seem particularly dangerous.
I relaxed. Dan was still worried, so we prayed again, and I felt like I should give him the other half of the benadryl dose (I had forgotten that 5 year olds can have 1-2 tsp. I only gave him one). Then we called the front desk and they agreed to watch the other five kids for a bit and told me how to find an urgent care place. Dan was more worried than I--I could hear him breathing and see him walking as fast as I was, and he was okay, but scared because he'd never had a swollen nose and ears before, and his whole body itched.
Still, wanting to be on the safe side, I took the kids to the front desk and left them, and took Dan and Nathanael to the urgent care facility that the front desk directed us to. They refused to see us because we had no money and no insurance and they don't deal in out-of-state medicaid. (And no, the new health care laws won't fix this problem--there is still no access to medical care for poor people.). I said, "My kid is having an allergic reaction to nuts, and you won't even tell the doctor?" No. Wouldn't even talk to me until her superviser came in and made her tell me how to find the ER, which took 10 minutes. "Prompt" care, it said on the building. Had Dan been in anaphylactic shock, I would have had a dead kid thanks to the promptness of their care.
As we walked out, Dan said, "Mom, I'm fine now." And he was. So we came back.
Took the kids to the fair for the afternoon. That, in and of itself, was exhausting, hot, dusty, and exhausting some more. We bought a box of ice cream on the way home and made milkshakes. Then gave Dan more benadryl before bed to counter any rebound reaction (they happen with severe allergies when the benadryl wears off).
And then we pretty much collapsed into bed and slept HARD. What a day!