Loving Her (Mitchell Family #9)(3)
Author: Jennifer Foor

I shook my head. “No. I’ve never seen this in my life.”

The ambulance bumped around the road as we drove, and I held onto the handle while reaching over and placing my other hand on my daughter’s arm.

“We’ll be at the hospital in about ten minutes. She’s in good hands, ma’am.”

I hoped that he was right. “You hear that Bella? He says you’re in good hands, honey. Just hold on.”

When she didn’t even budge I began to sob. How was I supposed to hold onto hope when I was watching her fading away? It’s unrealistic to think that in this type of circumstance anyone can sit there and be optimistic. Her body was a different color, she was burning up, and hadn’t been responsive. This wasn’t a normal action for a kid. It wasn’t normal for anyone.

I could tell we were pulling into the hospital when the ambulance made a sharp turn and went over a traffic calming hump. I braced myself for the vehicle to stop and waited as the paramedic opened the rear exit doors. “Hop on out and step to the side.”

I did as he told me and watched as they made sure Bella was strapped and ready to be transported inside of the hospital.

She was still burning up, and I couldn’t keep from losing all sense of composure. She’d been sick plenty of times in her life and never had it gotten to be this extreme. I knew in my gut that something was very wrong.

I followed close behind them, paying little attention to the slew of other patients and people that were with them. It was as if I had tunnel vision going on, blocking out everything else except for Bella. I wasn’t worried about other patients or how life threatening their prognosis was. All I cared about was getting my daughter the medical attention that she needed.

I grabbed a nurse, who was standing around chatting with a co-worker, and forced her to look at me. “Please, help my daughter.”

She looked over my shoulder and then back at me, as if to weigh in on how desperate I was.

I must have looked lost, because the woman put her hand on my back and we both walked into the room where they were transferring Bella to a bed. She started talking to the paramedics and getting the information that she needed while hooking her up and starting on her own batch of vitals.

Her friend came in the room and she immediately ordered her to prepare for an I.V. that would pump Bella full of Acetaminophen in order to bring down her temperature.

After the paramedics were done with their reports, they left the room. I sat there watching the nurse, hoping she could shed some light on what was happening. “You say she was fine before this? No fever? Not lethargic?”

I shook my head. “She was running around with her cousins all day yesterday.”

Right then Ty came in, pulling me into his arms, not taking his eyes off of Bella.

We sat there, waiting and watching them do what they could for her. When the doctor came in, I admittedly felt better, like he could magically fix whatever was wrong. I wish that were the case and that they could provide patients with miracles. However, life doesn’t work that way.

He asked us questions, ordered tests, and then we had to play the waiting game.

Ty held me as I cried and stared at the nurses, who continued working on Bella. I couldn’t look him in the eyes, knowing his fears. I had to keep my eyes on her and make sure that she was going to be okay.

After tests and a diagnosis of Lyme’s disease, which we got on our phones and looked up everything we could on it, we were hopeful. Even in the worst cases, it was manageable with antibiotics. They gave them to her intravenously. Bella seemed to be improving. Her temperature dropped and a little bit of life was showing when we tried to communicate with her.

We called the family and let them know that she was going to be fine. For a few short hours, I believed that everything was going to be alright. We were settled on the idea of taking her home and providing her with all the attention she needed to recover.

Nothing could have prepared us for what happened next.

Chapter 3

Tyler

Once again, it is important to stress how much family means to me. Without them, in a stressful time of need, I don’t know how Miranda and I would have gotten through. All we were concerned about was our daughter. We didn’t have time to talk to everyone when they tried to call, not to mention the fact that it stresses a person out more, having to talk about it a hundred times.

Amy and Conner took care of phone calls and letting the family know what had taken place. I knew my mother-in-law and everyone else was going to be heading our way. When bad things happened we always banned together. It’s how our family worked, and at that moment we needed all of them.

Miranda and I took turns going home and being with the boys. We were like soldiers, standing guard over Izzy. From the time she was brought into the hospital, she’d never been alone. I missed my wife and the support she offered when we were together. We both knew my mother and the rest of the family would have been happy to watch the boys, but they were a handful. I couldn’t burden them with their mischievous actions for days on end. They’d never talk to us again.

In the past six months, they’d set things on fire, broke a full-sized tractor, took a farm truck for a joyride, and shaved their cousin’s head. No one was volunteering because they wanted to.

After the third day, I think the doctor realized that his first diagnosis couldn’t have been right. Izzy’s symptoms were returning, as well as some new ones. Reluctantly, Miranda left the boys with Van, who had come to town for a funeral.

I was so glad to have her there, knowing she’d keep those boys in line. If they didn’t listen, they knew she’d ship their asses to Colt and he would put them over his knee in a heartbeat.

Just the fear of that happening usually made them act better.

It was hard, worrying about our daughter and fearing that our sons couldn’t behave while we were away. I needed to keep my mind in one place, but I found it difficult.

Being a father was the greatest gift that God had ever blessed me with. I’d do anything for my children, and so would Miranda.

Izzy’s vitals dropped on the fourth night.

Her initial tests for Lyme’s came back negative, as the doctor said they would. They ran the tests again along with some others, in hopes to figure out what was doing this to her body.

Every once in a while she’d scream out in pain, like her limbs were being torn apart. When she wasn’t sleeping she whined, and we could tell she was utterly uncomfortable.

All I could do was hold her hand and promise that she’d be okay, even when I didn’t know if it was the truth. I tried not to imagine that her life was in danger, but how could I know what was happening? I wasn’t a doctor.