It was early December and Christmas was right around the corner. I could hardly wait! I had finally convinced my parents to come and spend the holidays with us, away from home for the first time.
I spent days getting ready. I wanted everything to be perfect. I mixed up 4 different kinds of cookie dough and put them in the freezer ready to be baked. I had the right size turkey and a new stuffing recipe to try. We bought a new bed and bedding for the guest room and had it all made up. The house was scrubbed from top to bottom. John had even brought home an industrial buffer from work and we waxed and buffed the floors. Christmas lights were strung across the front of the house and we had the perfect Christmas tree set up in the corner of the living room where Rob couldn't reach it.
Things were really falling into place. That should have been my first clue, but it wasn't.
Two days before my folks were to arrive Rob got sick. His head started pounding, his ears ached, his belly didn't feel good and he had diarrhea. I took him to the doctors and they said it was some kind of virus. I was told to let him rest, get plenty of fluids and bring him back in if he got worse. So I watched him. The day my folks got here Rob's temperature was over 102. Mom helped me that night by sponging him off and rocking him.
Our holidays were getting off to a bad start but I had no idea how bad it was going to get.
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