I remember how many times we did this when he was a baby. Take his temperature...another fever...grab a bag...race out the door. Which hospital do we go to?...Do we chance trying to make it to Philadelphia!? We were in and out of so many hospitals so many times...the feeling tonight just brings back so many horrible memories. 

 
Luke hears us talking, he sees the fear in our eyes. We can't hide it. He forces himself to take a couple of bites and a couple of sips. Maybe he is just dehydrated?...we hope but secretly know it is not the case. He is trying with all his might so he doesn't have to go back. His fever is rising quickly and we know there is no choice. "No mommy!" Luke cries. "Mommy!" Grace cries as I walk away from her again. She is being left in the best hands possible...my mom! John, Luke and I now sit in the ER. They are expecting us and luckily they take us right back to isolation. Luke feels so sick but he will not or cannot explain what he feels. We are overcome with fear. Watching Luke weak, sick and distraught as he tries to fight and beg not to have the IV placed...I don't have any words this time. We miss our life so terribly and are worn down. 

 
An IV has been placed, blood drawn and he is getting fluids. We need to wait and pray that nothing grows in the blood culture. This would indicate a bacterial infection in the blood. This is horribly dangerous. They automatically treat him like it is and immediately start him on high dose antibiotics. Currently we are waiting and praying.