SAT. An Update on Captain Awesome: A Six-Week Medical Battle and the Internet Aunties Who Carry Him Through

After I shared yesterday that I would be missing my annual plot group in San Diego due to family reasons, my inbox quickly filled with emails and messages asking the same question: Is everything okay?

The outpouring of concern reminded me that I probably owed an explanation to those of you who love Captain Awesome — or as one reader affectionately put it, his “internet aunties.” (A title I absolutely adore.)

I haven’t shared much publicly, aside from letting my book group know that January became a blur and that we wouldn’t be meeting. The truth is, when life feels overwhelming, it’s hard to know where to begin — or how much is too much to share.

So here’s the condensed version… though it still feels like a novel.

The past six weeks have been an incredibly rough road. Just before Christmas, Captain Awesome was hospitalized for four days with what doctors believed was pneumonia. Two weeks after being discharged, we were back again for another four-day stay when he failed to improve.

He rallied briefly — about a week of hope — before crashing again late Monday night. That night ended with an ambulance ride, prolonged seizure-like activity, and a terrifying 104.5-degree fever. We spent four more nights in the ICU as doctors ran extensive tests, quickly realizing this time it wasn’t pneumonia at all.

We thought we finally had answers: an infected prostate that may have been the problem all along. He was sent home Friday on oral antibiotics. But by Saturday, things took another frightening turn. Likely reacting to the powerful medication, he began having seizures — two at home, followed by a third in the ER.

Despite his cerebral palsy and the many medical challenges we already manage, seizures are extremely rare for him. His last one was four years ago, and they’ve always been well controlled. That made this episode especially terrifying.

Another midnight ambulance ride later, he was transferred to a larger trauma hospital an hour from our home, where he has remained in the ICU since Sunday.

The good news: he is improving.

There are still concerns — his blood pressure drops alarmingly low at night — but overall, he’s stable and heading in the right direction. When we’re finally released, he will likely continue treatment at home with a six-week course of continuous IV antibiotics. I am endlessly grateful for his medport, which makes home IV care possible.

Through all of this, Captain Awesome has lived up to his name.

He’s tougher than his mama, still smiling through pain and anxiety, still flirting shamelessly with the nurses, and still managing to capture every heart he encounters.

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for every prayer, message, and kind thought. I am deeply grateful for each of you — his internet aunties — who carry him with such love.