I'm sure by now you know about James's...zest for life. His wild and crazy enthusiasm for everything from broccoli to taking his two good friends to see Star Wars for his birthday? We say that James is on eleven all the time. Except for right now, when he is on fifteen because he had a small allergic reaction to something while we were out of town and is now on steroids. James on steroids is exactly what we would have expected from James on steroids. The last time he was on them I accidentally woke him up while trying to nebulize him when he was sleeping and he screamed nonsense at me as he ran all over the upstairs then ran out front and sank his teeth into the pillar holding up our porch.
I was nervous about giving him steroids again, but also wanted him to stop wheezing, so we dosed him up and hoped for the best. He still has a lingering cough but now he has SO MUCH ENERGY HE CANNOT SIT DOWN AND REST LIKE HE IS SUPPOSED TO.
Yesterday all the kids went over to a friend's house, where a babysitter came and stayed with them while we went out for dinner with the parents, who are our friends. When we came home, at nine o'clock at night, the babysitter told us that James and his friend were playing outside. I opened the back door to hear an animal-like screaming coming from somewhere in the darkness. I cocked my head to one side and listened, trying to determine if the screaming whatever it was was happy or dying. Once my eyes adjusted I learned that the sound was coming from James, and that it was happy. James on a swing. Screaming. Like he was being murdered. In the dark. I wonder how many neighbors called the cops?
Getting him into the car was like that YouTube video that went around a few years ago of the psychotic cat some poor guy was trying to put into a kennel. Ambulances have specialized restraints for people who are high on drugs and it would have been good to have some of those. At home I asked Ryan to just "get him in his bed however you can" and a few minutes later went upstairs to find James vibrating silently in a lying down position, staring intensely at something across the room. Then a switch flipped and he abruptly fell asleep.
This morning at church he was up and then down and then up and then down and then up and then down. When it was time to hold hands and sing the closing song he hung from Charley and Mary's hands and half-layed on the floor, legs akimbo. Then he popped up and sprinted two laps around the sanctuary, one forward one backward.
He ran up the stairs to the stage and then jumped down, disappeared behind the Chrismon tree, charged perilously close to the mobility-impaired members of the congregation creeping toward the doors on their walkers, all the while with a crazed smile and loud cackle.
Ryan nodded an apology at the pastor, who was just sort of, staring, with his mouth open, "He's on steroids" he explained.
Wes can't resist baiting him and grabbed James tie as he ran past. He ran out of the sanctuary and onto the sidewalk. James broke away from Ryan and screamed "CHARGE!!!" and shot down the sidewalk toward the parking lot.
I had already arranged for an afternoon reading by myself at a coffee shop so I have no idea what is going on at home right now. But I am very very glad this will have worn off before he has to go back to school. And so is his teacher.