Loving Her (Mitchell Family #9)(4)

After tests and a diagnosis of Lyme’s disease, which we got on our phones and looked up everything we could on it, we were hopeful. Even in the worst cases, it was manageable with antibiotics. They gave them to her intravenously. Bella seemed to be improving. Her temperature dropped and a little bit of life was showing when we tried to communicate with her.

We called the family and let them know that she was going to be fine. For a few short hours, I believed that everything was going to be alright. We were settled on the idea of taking her home and providing her with all the attention she needed to recover.

Nothing could have prepared us for what happened next.





Chapter 3


Tyler


Once again, it is important to stress how much family means to me. Without them, in a stressful time of need, I don’t know how Miranda and I would have gotten through. All we were concerned about was our daughter. We didn’t have time to talk to everyone when they tried to call, not to mention the fact that it stresses a person out more, having to talk about it a hundred times.



Amy and Conner took care of phone calls and letting the family know what had taken place. I knew my mother-in-law and everyone else was going to be heading our way. When bad things happened we always banned together. It’s how our family worked, and at that moment we needed all of them.

Miranda and I took turns going home and being with the boys. We were like soldiers, standing guard over Izzy. From the time she was brought into the hospital, she’d never been alone. I missed my wife and the support she offered when we were together. We both knew my mother and the rest of the family would have been happy to watch the boys, but they were a handful. I couldn’t burden them with their mischievous actions for days on end. They’d never talk to us again.

In the past six months, they’d set things on fire, broke a full-sized tractor, took a farm truck for a joyride, and shaved their cousin’s head. No one was volunteering because they wanted to.

After the third day, I think the doctor realized that his first diagnosis couldn’t have been right. Izzy’s symptoms were returning, as well as some new ones. Reluctantly, Miranda left the boys with Van, who had come to town for a funeral.

I was so glad to have her there, knowing she’d keep those boys in line. If they didn’t listen, they knew she’d ship their asses to Colt and he would put them over his knee in a heartbeat.

Just the fear of that happening usually made them act better.

It was hard, worrying about our daughter and fearing that our sons couldn’t behave while we were away. I needed to keep my mind in one place, but I found it difficult.

Being a father was the greatest gift that God had ever blessed me with. I’d do anything for my children, and so would Miranda.

Izzy’s vitals dropped on the fourth night.

Her initial tests for Lyme’s came back negative, as the doctor said they would. They ran the tests again along with some others, in hopes to figure out what was doing this to her body.

Every once in a while she’d scream out in pain, like her limbs were being torn apart. When she wasn’t sleeping she whined, and we could tell she was utterly uncomfortable.

All I could do was hold her hand and promise that she’d be okay, even when I didn’t know if it was the truth. I tried not to imagine that her life was in danger, but how could I know what was happening? I wasn’t a doctor.

She was suffering and I hated seeing her like that. No parent wants to see their child in the hospital, and certainly when there was no diagnosis, no plan for treatment to rid her of whatever was happening.

They pumped her full of pain medication on the fifth day and got her comfortable while the testing continued. She’d been pricked and pulled for days and we were losing hope. My aunt called her doctor and asked for him to make a special trip from Kentucky. We were that desperate for answers. The good news was that it hadn’t come to that.

Finally, after almost a week, they discovered she was suffering from Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever after she’d woken up covered in a rash. They couldn’t explain to us why she hadn’t been tested for it yet, and all we were worried about was getting her treatment.

Unfortunately, the longer you wait to treat the disease, the more serious the condition becomes. Izzy was admitted into the intensive care unit on the seventh day. When untreated, the disease affects the cells that line the blood vessels. In serious instances, like Iz’s, damage to other organs can occur, including the liver, spleen and kidney.

The first antibiotic, called doxycycline, caused her to have an allergic reaction, resulting in more time where the disease was untreated. As Iz’s health failed, so did my will to go on. Minutes, hours, even days passed, and I forgot to eat, sleep and sometimes even breathe. I felt like I was sitting around watching my daughter slip away, and there was nothing I could do about it.

Everyone wanted to blame the hospital, and maybe it was their fault, but it wouldn’t matter. All we cared about was getting her better, no matter what it took.

Izzy’s kidney’s started to fail on the twelfth day. Specialist were called and offered a surgical procedure that would help salvage her organs. I didn’t know that agreeing to it was going to cause such a ripple effect in our lives. Nothing was more important than the doctors treating Iz. We weren’t thinking about anything else.

On top of everything, I longed to be close to Miranda. Our alternating shifts were exhausting and I missed her terribly. I hated sleeping without her in the house, or when I had to sleep at the hospital, knowing she was home. We’d never gone for long periods of time without being affectionate, so the time apart had definitely been straining. I was mentally and physically exhausted, refusing to take care of myself until my daughter was safe at home.