We have been battling the stomach virus in our house, or maybe I should say my little man has been battling it and the rest of us are doing everything we can to avoid it. Unfortunately he has had it really bad. It started with a fever at 1am on Thursday morning and the rest of it started a couple of hours later. He had been a real trooper, rarely crying and touching me ever-so-gently as to assure me that he is alright and that I shouldn't worry. Such a tender little spirit.
So, last night, after 18 hours of throwing up I decide that I am officially worried and I call the doctor to see if there is anything I can do because he cannot keep anything down. I know how bad dehydration can be and how quickly it can turn bad. He also was so sick to his stomach he was refusing Tylenol or Motrin because it made him gag. When the doctor called me back he mentioned Phenargan, which is a drug that is used for several different things, including as an anti-nausea medication. In the early summer when Isabella had her tonsils and adnoids out, we were given some for her nausea, so I asked him I could use that and he agreed that it would be fine. The problem with the Phenargan is that it is a suppository. Because of that I never used the prescription because Isabella refused to allow herself to be "violated". So, I get off the phone and tell Michael that the doctor has told me to use it...if I can.
I walk into the room and sit on the bed. My poor little guy looks up at me and here is the conversation...
Micah- "What did the doctor say?"
Me- As I hold up the prescription bottle I say, "He said you can take this and hopefully it will make you feel better."
Micah- Obviously noticing my timidity says, "Will it taste yucky?"
Me- "No honey."
Micah- "Do I have to hold it on my tongue?"
Me- "No baby."
Micah- "Then what do I have to do?"
Me- I look at him with all the compassion in the world and say, "It goes in your hiney. It is a suppository."
He looks at me, processing the conversation, and then very slowly and gently pulls the covers over his head.
Me- "If I can promise that it won't hurt and that it will make you feel better, will you do it?"
He pulls the covers down and looks at me and with all sincerity he says, "God will heal me."
At that, I was done. Had it been a life of death situation I may have forced it but it wasn't. I had prayed over him early that day that God would heal him and that was good enough for him...at least in comparison to having something put somewhere that really is intended to be an exit only.
I just looked at him, commended his faith, prayed again, and surrendered. God will just have to heal him.