Jacob's little enemy.

A couple weeks ago Jacob mentioned to me that he was having a little trouble raising his left arm up over his head.  He felt, what seemed like, a couple tiny lumps directly in his arm pit.  Being that Jacob has previously had 'swollen glands' we dismissed the problem for a couple days but kept close watch over them.  He still complained of the uncomfortable 'glands' but felt nothing other than just being uncomfortable.  They really didnt' hurt but by Saturday, May 26th the 'glands' began to bleed a teeny bit.  At this point we knew that it wasn't just 'swollen glands'.  The lumps had definitely grown from pea size to almond size and had become one. We immediately began warm compresses and watched them closely, still. We instantly thought maybe a pimple? What a weird spot, though. 
I decided that taking him to the doctor for a check up would be necessary in order for some peace of mind. The appointment was made Tuesday, May 29th. At this point, Jacob was feeling OK, minus the little pressure underneath the skin.  The doctor really had no true diagnoses, but she took no chances and started him on two antibiotics immediately.  She leaned more towards an abscess but because 'the lump' was still under the skin, it was hard to tell exactly what it could be. She recommended that I take him into a medical clinic or ER within a couple days if he wasn't better.  Sure enough, Jacob woke 3 days later to find that this lump had now grown outside his skin.  It was inflamed, tender to touch, big and really quite ugly.  Painful.  He couldn't even lift his arm at this point to put on a tee shirt.  I immediately made another doctor's appointment Friday morning. After discussing details of this 'thing' with the nurse over the phone, she directed us to the med clinic.

Friday, June 1: Signed in at the Urgent Care Clinic and waited to be seen.  Scared and unsure of the procedure, I tried my best to reassure Jacob that everything would be fine.  Even though we knew there would be some pain, neither one of us really knew what was coming in the hours ahead. We both were just looking for the light at the end of the tunnel! They call us into the room.  The doctor comes in, takes a look, and clearly tells us of the procedure and the pain involved.  Jacob was ready. I was not. I've never seen such strength in a child, my child, like I did that day.  The doctor comes in with the injection.  After 4 injections of lidocaine, no numbing had occurred. A couple more.  Nothing.  The last two injections offered no relief.  With each injection into the tender, now grape sized lump, blood began to drip down the side of his body.  Jacob cringed with every injection but never moved.  I, on the other hand, could feel my heart just drop.  I wanted so bad to take his place on that bed.  My poor son.  A few more minutes passed and no numbing.  The doctor comes in and pretty much told us he was going to have to "just cut into it".  I took a deep breath, looked and my son and held his hand tight.  Still, Jacob was ready.  I was not. But this had to be done.  The doc puts his gloves on, prepares his 'tools', gauze, tape and other instruments for the dreaded procedure.  Here we go.  Jacob braces himself, takes a deep breath, looks at me and squeezed my hands- tight! The knife punctures the skin.  Jacob's chest rises and his legs begin to 'dig' into the bed.  His head pushes back and he squeezes my hands even tighter and the slicing continues. "Breathe Jacob. Breathe baby. Almost done sweetheart! Please breathe!" I felt so helpless.  My son was feeling terrible, intense pain and all I could do is tell him to breathe.  This process took just a few seconds but felt like an eternity! Blood and puss soaked the padding underneath my son's left side.  I looked over at Jacob and caressed his face.  His eyes welled up with tears, but not one tear EVER fell from his beautiful brown eyes.  They fell from mine. We thought the worst was over but what followed was just as bad.  The doctor began to squeeze the open,  but still tender wound. Jacob once again began to kick his legs, squeeze my hands tighter than before.  I wanted to hit this stranger who was working on getting my son to feel better....weird, I know, but how do I handle that? I would NEVER in a thousand years allow someone to hurt my child, yet this stranger was hurting my child so that he may get better.  Very bittersweet. The doctor took his instrument, inserted it into the open would and dug into it.  He continued to remove 'infected' goop from the inside.  In my head I begged the Lord for this to just be over already.  My son had already endured enough pain! My prayer: "Please Lord, keep Jacob in your arms, hold him close so that he feel your love and warmth and healing.  Please Lord, give this doctor the knowledge on what to do and how to do it as quickly as possible.  Please Lord, give me the strength not to cry in front of my son.  Help me to be strong.  But most of all Thank you for your healing touch which is happening right in front of our eyes. Thank you, Lord. I praise your name in this tough time." The last of the process was the 'packing'.  The doctor explained to us all the 'whys' of what he needed to do.  Greatly appreciated. He proceeded to take his instrument again and reopen the now empty wound.  Jacob just couldn't take anymore and neither could I.  I bowed my head so that Jacob wouldn't see me fighting back my tears. I still held onto my son's hands.  The doctor began inserting the strip of gauze into the wound.  Jacob kicked, pushed his head back, chest up but this time I actually heard my son's moans.  "It's almost over baby.  You can do it son.  You're a strong, young man and I'm right here. He's almost done.  Just a little more.  It's almost over." Finally, it was.  Jacob, overall, did amazingly well.  I did not.  I was a basket case, shaking and trying not to show my weakness.  In a silent prayer to myself on our way home I thanked God for getting us through this.  I thanked him for his presence. I thanked him for loving us so much. I thanked him for my blessings.  I thanked him for my sons; my healthy sons. This little journey was still not over, but we were thankful, once again, that one of the hardest parts was behind us.
Saturday, June 2: the 'repacking' of the open wound; extremely painful and obviously still very tender.  Jacob pretty much relived the night before as another stranger took the wooden end of a q-tip and inserted the gauze. Again, I teared up, but didn't let me son see me cry.  I held his hands tightly and reminded him that this would all be over, for good, real soon.  Thankfully, this process took just a few minutes.  We got home, both sat on the couch and then I began to cry.  I told him how sorry I was that he had to go through this.  As hard as it was for me to witness my son's agony I was thankful to be able to be there and nurture him as only a mother can.  I must say, Austin was a great support for his big brother often making Jacob laugh through the pain.  What a kid! So great, so loving. 
We had several nights going back to the clinic for 'repacking' but I'm glad to say last night was the final night! Yay! They did not have to pack this wound anymore.  It's healing nicely, as it should and now home care is all that is needed! Jacob is almost done with his antibiotics and is able to put a tee shirt on with no problem! I'm so happy to see my son smile again.  I love my boys more than anything in this entire world and I thank the Lord for our happy days together!

Thank you to all who have checked on Jacob.  He's doing fantastic! God bless!! xoxo