The ambulance ride

Last week I finally had a ride in an ambulance. That’s one thing off my bucket list, I guess. It was also the same day I saw my poor little boy shaking uncontrollably and foaming from his mouth. Not something off anyone list of things to experience! Not something I would like to experience again!

T had a febrile seizure, so we called an ambulance and took him to the hospital to get him checked out. The wait for the ambulance was an astonishing 40 minutes, which felt more like 40 years. I probably stopped breathing for the entire time. Once the paramedics were there I started to feel a little better. They didn’t seem worried. They told me they saw lots of these episodes and that it was a good idea to get him to a doctor, but there was no rush. I started to breath again.

The ride to the hospital, a interminable 45 minutes, was sooooooo long but it gave me the time to calm down, assess the situation and clear my head. By the time we got to the hospital I was so confident that T was going to be alright that I could actually walk without my legs shaking!

Fortunately my husband came with me so we could recall what happened together. Things happened so quickly it was difficult to give the nurse all the details without being confused. After checking in we had to wait for a doctor, but T was fast asleep so we had time to talk to each other. Breathe. Drink some water. Sit down.

Things were getting back to normal…


Then a student doctor came in and asked “So, how’s little B?” I looked at my husband, he looked at me. We were both puzzled. “We really hope he is well. He is at home with the grandparents.” Isn’t he? Was there a second ambulance with our child following us and we didn’t know? The student doctor looked very confused.

We were back in the world of twins… completely interchangeable to strangers, very special to their own parents!


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