It’s been a couple of weeks now and Ryne is making so much progress that I feel like I can finally relive May 16th enough to write about it. This is probably more of a cathartic process for myself than an entertaining one, but I wanted to do my best to help you all to feel the elation we feel from Ryne simply taking steps again or to feel how we hold our breath just to see if he’s going to grab a toy with his right hand. In order to show you how happy this all makes us, I have to take you back a couple of weeks and share with you our despair when we felt everything crash down and didn’t know if anything would ever be the same.
May 16th, 6:00 AM: I woke up with several thoughts. The first was how I didn’t want to go to my new job that day. I was starting my second week and it’s a blessing to have a job after nearly two years of being unemployed, but I wasn’t really happy with what I did. My thoughts quickly turned, however, to the short guy who lives in the room next door. He had been sick the night before with a fever and some vomiting. His Mommy had given him medicine that took care of his fever the night before, and I wanted to go check on him and make sure the fever hadn’t returned. So I got out of the bed and went to his bedroom. When I opened the door I walked over to his crib and I could hear him whimpering. I felt of him, and he didn’t feel hot. Since he was whimpering, I thought I would pick him up and take him to his Mommy so she could comfort him a bit.
When I picked him up, he was really floppy, like a fish. He just didn’t seem to have control over holding his body up. I carried him into our bedroom and flipped on the light. I told Jamie as I walked in, “We’re going to have to carry him to the ER. He’s just not doing too good.” When I laid him down on our bed, I was finally confronted with the site that still sickens my stomach. I almost can’t force my fingers to type the words. I looked down at Ryne and his eyes had rolled back into his head and he wasn’t responding to me. I yelled his name. I clapped my hands right in his face and snapped my fingers. Nothing. It was then that the weirdest thing happened. I was consumed by sheer terror when all of a sudden everything slowed down and Jamie and I both kinda came out of our bodies and the whole moment became a surreal drama that we were watching instead of participating in. Jamie whipped out her phone and dialed 911 without hesitation. She handed me the phone and I was able to talk to the dispatcher without losing control. I was able to give all the pertinent information as well as take directions on how to keep Ryne physically stable until paramedics arrived.
The dispatcher had me lay him flat on the floor with my hand under his neck to keep his airway open. Ryne drifted in and out of consciousness, though I don’t think he was truly conscious even when his eyes were open. He never did respond to my voice. At one point, both Jamie and I both saw him with the tell-tale mouth “droop” that’s a sign of a stroke, but neither of us said anything to the other. I believe looking back at the call log on Jamie’s phone, we waited 14 minutes for an ambulance. I believe that if I tried hard enough, I could recall every tick of the clock, though I have fought my best to forget them.
When the paramedics arrived, I got up and let them do their job, which lasted about 8 seconds. After that, one of them had scooped Ryne up and was out the door, shouting “C’mon Mom” behind her as she went. I locked up behind us and went down to the car so that I could follow behind the ambulance. I knew I couldn’t follow right behind, but I was glad Jamie was with him. It took them a while to get going because they were getting his “stats” and trying to stabilize him, as well as getting this tiny body safely into a bed meant for much larger people to travel in. It’s kinda weird the things that go through your mind at times like this, but like I said, I felt more like an observer than a participant. I kept thinking, ‘at least the Ambulance can go through and around traffic. I can’t believe this is happening during morning rush hour in Nashville.’
They were finally ready to be off when they asked my wife what hospital she wanted to go to. God smiled on us when it was decided that it would be Vanderbilt. They took off with me in hot pursuit. I was able to get there just 10 minutes after them after going through rush hour myself. What had been only about 45 minutes felt like days already, and we didn’t even know what the day had in store for us yet.