Loving Her (Mitchell Family #9)(3)

I knew I was shaking, imagining the thought of this being so serious. With three kids, we were always passing colds back and forth to one another. That was nothing new. This, however, was different. This was like nothing I’d ever seen before.

In a matter of hours our bubbly daughter had become so ill. She needed to get to a hospital and I feared that her life depended on it.

Normally, when I saw Ty’s mom just storming in the house I’d get a little irritated. She had a habit of doing that.

Except when I saw her running in with that frightened look across her face, I knew she was going through the same emotions that I was. That motherly instinct was there and all she knew how to do was protect the people that she loved.

She’d seen the paramedics pulling up and probably heard the sirens. I can’t imagine what she must have thought was going on.

I watched the men swiftly grabbing her and putting her on the stretcher to carry her out to the ambulance. Ty was there, watching in disbelief, like someone had stabbed him in the heart.

I wanted to run to him; to cry against his chest and hold onto hope through the comfort of being close to him, but I couldn’t. I had to stay close to Bella.

Before I knew it, we were pulling away from the farm. I watched out of the tiny glass doors as the dirt road got smaller and further away.

My brother’s truck appeared, and I knew he’d grabbed Ty and was following us to the hospital. With the paramedics still taking her vitals, I leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Momma’s here, Bella. You’re goin’ to be okay, sweetie. Just rest.”

I didn’t want her to rest, in fear that she wasn’t going to wake up. I know it was horrible to think that, but to look at her, to see her so unresponsive, I couldn’t bring myself to accept that she was going to be fine. I knew whatever was happening was serious.

The paramedic turned to me and smiled as he listened to her pulse. When he removed his fingers and jotted down her results, I sat there, waiting for some sign of hope. “Do you have any idea what’s happenin’ to her?”

“No, ma’am. I’ve seen children with fevers react differently. Does she suffer from any other kind of illness? Is anyone in your family sick?”

I shook my head. “No. I’ve never seen this in my life.”

The ambulance bumped around the road as we drove, and I held onto the handle while reaching over and placing my other hand on my daughter’s arm.

“We’ll be at the hospital in about ten minutes. She’s in good hands, ma’am.”

I hoped that he was right. “You hear that Bella? He says you’re in good hands, honey. Just hold on.”

When she didn’t even budge I began to sob. How was I supposed to hold onto hope when I was watching her fading away? It’s unrealistic to think that in this type of circumstance anyone can sit there and be optimistic. Her body was a different color, she was burning up, and hadn’t been responsive. This wasn’t a normal action for a kid. It wasn’t normal for anyone.

I could tell we were pulling into the hospital when the ambulance made a sharp turn and went over a traffic calming hump. I braced myself for the vehicle to stop and waited as the paramedic opened the rear exit doors. “Hop on out and step to the side.”

I did as he told me and watched as they made sure Bella was strapped and ready to be transported inside of the hospital.

She was still burning up, and I couldn’t keep from losing all sense of composure. She’d been sick plenty of times in her life and never had it gotten to be this extreme. I knew in my gut that something was very wrong.



I followed close behind them, paying little attention to the slew of other patients and people that were with them. It was as if I had tunnel vision going on, blocking out everything else except for Bella. I wasn’t worried about other patients or how life threatening their prognosis was. All I cared about was getting my daughter the medical attention that she needed.

I grabbed a nurse, who was standing around chatting with a co-worker, and forced her to look at me. “Please, help my daughter.”

She looked over my shoulder and then back at me, as if to weigh in on how desperate I was.

I must have looked lost, because the woman put her hand on my back and we both walked into the room where they were transferring Bella to a bed. She started talking to the paramedics and getting the information that she needed while hooking her up and starting on her own batch of vitals.

Her friend came in the room and she immediately ordered her to prepare for an I.V. that would pump Bella full of Acetaminophen in order to bring down her temperature.

After the paramedics were done with their reports, they left the room. I sat there watching the nurse, hoping she could shed some light on what was happening. “You say she was fine before this? No fever? Not lethargic?”

I shook my head. “She was running around with her cousins all day yesterday.”

Right then Ty came in, pulling me into his arms, not taking his eyes off of Bella.

We sat there, waiting and watching them do what they could for her. When the doctor came in, I admittedly felt better, like he could magically fix whatever was wrong. I wish that were the case and that they could provide patients with miracles. However, life doesn’t work that way.

He asked us questions, ordered tests, and then we had to play the waiting game.

Ty held me as I cried and stared at the nurses, who continued working on Bella. I couldn’t look him in the eyes, knowing his fears. I had to keep my eyes on her and make sure that she was going to be okay.