I have to admit, the past few days have been difficult.
It all started Saturday, Aug. 4, as I was driving home from the office.
My car just died. I can't really explain it, but it's moved on to automobile heaven.
So I began the week in search of a new vehicle.
And the search has continued.
It's not been easy, but I've made some headway.
But that was only the beginning of this incredibly difficult week.
It was Friday. I was preparing to continue the vehicle search when my wife called.
She had received a call from James David's day care. They had told her he had collapsed while playing.
Needless to say, my wife was frantic. She was crying and hard to understand, which in turn, made me frantic.
I found a way over to Terre Haute and met them at the hospital. When they arrived, Merry and James David were in the ambulance.
James David was in her lap and appeared listless.
Initially, it was believed he had suffered a seizure at day care.
However, after some tests, it was determined James David had passed out after suffering from dehydration, something we didn't see coming at all.
James David had been battling a virus for a couple of days. He had a hard time keeping things down in his stomach and didn't really want to eat anything.
But it seemed like he was getting enough fluids.
We found out the hard way he really wasn't.
We spent practically the entire day Friday at the hospital.
After all the tests, doctors told us they wanted to keep James David overnight to observe him.
He was hooked to an IV which helped him regain fluids throughout the evening. He, of course, didn't understand this. But, he toughed through the ordeal and by Saturday, we were able to take him home.
Still, one of the most painful sounds I have ever heard happened this weekend.
As he was having his blood taken earlier Friday, all James David could cry out was "No Daddy!"
It was one of the last times they were taking blood to test from him before he finally was moved to a room in the pediatric unit for the evening.
I was holding his legs down and he was screaming for me to let go so he had a better chance of escaping their grasp as they attempted to find a vein to tap.
That was painful. Tears started flowing from my eyes as he continued to cry out those two words.
I hope he has no memory of this situation as he gets older.
By all accounts, he won't.
I have experience with this.
When I was about his age, I was bitten by a neighbor dog.
The neighbor shot and killed the dog before it could be tested for rabies.
Because of this, I went through weeks of painful shots in the stomach area.
My father and mother have both told me when they had to take me to get the shots, I would cringe. They knew that I knew where we were going.
I hated the thought have having to get those shots.
But I don't remember one moment of it. At all. Not a single memory.
Hopefully, James David won't have the memory of collapsing at day care as he was playing on the playground.
Hopefully, he won't have to remember all the attempts to get blood from his arm.
Hopefully, he won't remember any of it.
But his mother and father will always remember.