Ezra's First Ambulance Ride

We've had our fair share (if not more) of emergency room visits in the past six years. I probably couldn't even remember them all.... but there's been NOTHING like the most recent trip we took with Ezra.
The boys had been asleep for nearly two hours, Kleven was next to me in my bed and Ezra was in his room. I was looking up pretzel recipes because I had promised Kleven we could make "mall pretzels" if he took a nap. I went in to get Ezra when he woke up and started to cry, grabbing the phone on the way down the hall. He didn't want to get out of bed, so I laid with him while I talked to a friend on the phone. He felt really warm, and I remember saying so to my friend. After a few minutes, I was done chatting, but Ezra still didn't want me to pick him up, so I told him I would go wake up Kleven and come back for him. I made it back to my room where I opened the web-page for the pretzel recipe I had found and got Kleven to wake up. This only took about two minutes. I heard Ezra shout out again- only this time it was a weird kind of panic yell, so I tossed my lap-top onto the bed and ran back down the hallway. Before I was even in the room I could hear the bed shaking. The entire bunk bed was rattling and Ezra was having a full-body seizure. His fists were clenched and at his sides, his whole body rigid and shaking, and he was making the most awful gurgling sound. His eyes were rolled back in his head as though he was looking at something above and behind him. I immediately snatched him up and started to scream. I have always prided myself on being the calm one in an emergency, but this time I had lost it. I remember yelling. "NO! Ezra please stop!!!" And I was bawling. Kleven had heard me yelling, and came in to see what was going on. I ran out to the living room with Ezra in my arms and Kleven at my heels and grabbed the phone. In my head I was imagining calling 911, but as I dialed 9, I proceeded to call my mom and dad's number. It starts with 9-2-6. I think it was Carson that answered, and I'm sure I freaked him out by yell-sobbing into the phone "Ezra's having a SEIZURE!!!" The phone was immediately handed to my mother, and then to my father who told me to hang up and call 911. I told him "NO, he'll stop and it'll be okay!" I was having a really strong impression that his fever and the seizure were 'normal'. I could vaguely remember this from my first-aid certification. My dad was quick to react and called my brother in law, Skylar, the fire-fighter who conveniently lives down the street, to check him out. Ezra finally did stop seizing. It was over in less than three minutes, but those three minutes felt like an hour to me. Skylar showed up and looked him over. He still hadn't opened his eyes or even made any kind of movement, but he was breathing and his pulse was good. I knew I needed to take him to Urgent Care anyway, so I sent Kleven with Skylar and put Ezra in the car. I walked into the Urgent Care expecting to have to sit and wait like everyone else, but as soon as they heard me say the word seizure, we were on our way down the hall to a room. Sadly, our nearest Urgent Care is a joke, but more about that another time. The doctor didn't even touch him, she just had the nurse give him some Tylenol after checking his temperature and then she called for transport, saying she "would feel much more comfortable if we got him checked out at the hospital" and that we "really should go by ambulance" rather than take him ourselves. By this time, my mom had made it out here and was ready to help out in any way. Ezra FINALLY came around and gave me the reassurance I needed to hear. He told us, very matter of fact, "I scaredy". Mom had the privilege of following the ambulance in my car and taking pictures of us with her cell phone. I was a little miffed, because I knew he would be fine if I had driven him there myself, but the Dr. didn't want to run the chance of being sued. (that was an AWESOME bill to get a few weeks later) I was TOLD we were being taken to Gilbert Mercy Hospital... the one on Val Vista... but when we turned into the Gilbert Hospital on Power I went into a minor panic mode and asked the EMT's WHY were we here and not at the REAL hospital. They said this was where they had been told to go... (I still need to go in and remind the Dr. at Urgent Care to get her hospitals straight!!! )
Once we were settled into a room, Grandma got to take Ezra down the hall for X-rays. Grandpa showed up a short time after that. The whole point in being at the hospital was to find out what was causing his fever, since he had been fine that morning. We learned that Ezra had had a Febrile Seizure. They are more common than you think! It's basically the bodies way of reacting to a temperature spike. Once you've had one, you're more prone to them, but you should out-grow them by the time you're five or so. I've always known both my boys are "spikers", but I don't medicate a 99.9%. I will have to change my ways! Now that Ezra's more prone to this condition, I have to treat him for a fever as soon as I sense a temperature rise and keep treating for 24 hours.
I should probably add in here somewhere that Chris was on his way home from Palm Desert, California. I had spoken to him about half an hour before the whole incident and then had to call him to tell him what had happened. I felt awful having to put him in such a helpless position, but being the good daddy he is, he pushed the gas pedal to the floor and didn't stop once. He arrived in time for the whole IV ordeal. After watching the nurse try to draw blood from two different spots, I asked her nicely to try his foot. I'm his mom, I've SEEN his feet bleed! But she replied in a not so nice way, that she is a Pediatric Nurse of thirty-some-odd years and she obviously knows more than I do, and that NO, kids HIS age don't bleed well from their feet. Poor Ezra was screaming the entire time! I was losing it, Chris was losing it, my poor dad looked like he was going to attack the next person who touched his grand-baby. The nurse gave up for a while, saying he probably wasn't hydrated enough, so we found him some "Spider man" juice (powerade) and he was able to calm down a bit. The shift changed, thank goodness, and grumpy pants went home. Chris and my dad were able to give Ezra a quick blessing, where my dad blessed him that he would only have to endure the needles as long as was absolutely necessary.
We were told a urine sample was needed, so after trying to get Ez to pee in a cup with no result, he was the lucky recipient of a "bag". Imagine a gallon-sized ziploc with adhesive where the "zipper" would be. Yup, they adhered it to him and then expected him to urinate. FOR REAL?!?!
After a short while, in came the 20-something year old and her "student" assisstant. After two or three more attempts to find a vein, even with everyone holding him down, they gave up. I give her props for at least TRYING his foot, but even the slightest flinch would roll the vein and they couldn't even nick it. So, in came Ingrid, another older nurse, but with a much improved attitude. When she called out into the hallway for an extra set of hands, in came the biggest, burliest, spikey-haired male nurse I had ever seen. He even had a whole slew of interesting peircings, like bull rings through both ears and a barbell through his eyebrow. Looks are definately deceiving. He was the biggest softie EVER! Like a teddy-bear in disguise! Ezra thought he was pretty cool too. They had matching hair after all... I let the nice nurse lady try his hand once and then I half-begged her to try his foot. They had to wrap it up in a splint, and it was tedious, but they FINALLY found a vein and were able to get LOTS of blood. The smart nurse lady even thought to leave the line in! Which came in handy later, when we needed an IV to push antibiotics through.
The Dr. finally came in and informed us that they would need to cathetarize him to get the urine sample, which they did, and then he came back with the results a while later. He decided that Ezra's fever had been caused by a UTI, or urinary tract infection, which is NOT a common problem in little boys. So, after the IV with antibiotics, and waiting half an hour to see if he'd have a reaction to it, and after nearly six hours, we were able to go home. My poor baby had had blue and red medical tape wrapped around both feet, both hands, and at both elbows throughout the night. We had been removing it from one spot or another as quickly as we could, because I'm pretty sure he hates bandaids and stickers more than he hates getting poked. Getting home and cutting off his hospital bracelet was like being able to breath again for him. He slept between us that night. I was a nervous wreck and jumped up every time I felt the bed move, even though it was almost always just Chris turning over. It took us a few days to get back into the groove of things, but Ezra bounced right back!
When we went in the next day for a follow-up with our pediatrician, he was skeptical about the UTI diagnosis. He requested the cultures from the hospital and later that week he confirmed his suspicion that it wasn't actually a UTI, but most likely just a random virus passing through.