It started off inoccently enough: nothing more than a mild scratch on Jonah's leg; only hours later, he was delirious from fever as his leg swelled to twice its normal size, it was red, hot, and severely inflamed, and he was having seizures.  It scared me so bad I had Charles (my husband) call for an ambulance.

We were both terrified: we didn't know what was going to happen to our ten year old son, Jonah Gabriel.  He had been in perfect health up to now; there was no way we could fathom what was going on with him (or why).  We were scared that Jonah was going to die; he was that desperately sick.

Now we (myself and Charles) sit by his bed in the triage area of the emergency room, waiting for a doctor to come talk to us regarding Jonah's overall condition.  Nurses are busily bustling about, hanging IVs and other medical paraphenalia, in the hopes of trying to stabilitze his vital signs which have been running erractically since coming here.  

Jonah doesn't respond; he just lies there on the table, still as death.

It is terrifying to us to see our son being like this.  I don't know what could have possibly happened to bring Jonah to this lowly state or if we could have prevented it from happening.

Until the medical staff can figure out what is going on with our son, all we can do is play the waiting game and pray desperate prayers to Heaven, hoping for the best, yet at the same time, fearing the very worst.

~To be continued!~