Flip Flops and Pajama bottoms

So, I've conducted quite a bit of business in my pajamas over the last few days...
My 3 year old, Boston has been ill, headaches and throwing up, but for longer than normal and more severe than normal.
We took him to the doctor twice and called several other times over a period of 9 days to try and figure out what we could do to help him but nothing real substantial had come of our visits to the pediatrician. We searched the internet, called friends but with no avail...
He finally had a "partial body" seizure early Friday morning at which time we immediately took him to Primary Children's Hospital in Salt Lake, which is the best hospital for children in the state, no question.
I can only recall one or two other times in my life when I have felt so much desperation and so much faith as the 30 minute ride to the hospital with my sweet but very ill 3 year old in my arms. It was one of those moments when you begin to question the integrity of your life and if you indeed have the ability to rise to the occasion, that is quickly unfolding, with no warnings and seemingly with no mercy.
We arrived in the emergency room and the doctors began the testing. First they ran a CT Scan, then blood work (which both looked normal).
They were baffled but bright enough to know they could not send us away just yet, because they had not found the "why", so they convinced us he needed a spinal tap to make sure he did not have spinal meningitis. The test did reveal that he had meningitis and we were admitted right away.
We spent Friday, Saturday and part of Sunday in the hospital. At first, we were unsure of what kind of meningitis he had, so we waited. They gave him anti-viral medications as well as antibiotics and he got better so quickly, much to the happiness of Randy and I.
It was viral, not bacterial, which was excellent news and his prognosis is excellent.
The staff at the hospital got Boston doing so much better, and so quickly. What can you say to a group of individuals that have a hand in curing your child, a simple "thank-you" just doesn't seem to portray the gratitude in your heart.
When we left for the hospital Friday morning, we had no time to spare, and the pajamas I had worn to bed and the flip flops by the front door became by "best attire" for the next several days. Yes, I washed them and had clothes brought up to me, but it was kind of funny that more pajamas found their way up to me. I didn't dare leave the hospital, so as not being the one choosing my wardrobe, I was at the mercy of my husband or my father in law's wardrobe choosing. Not too shabby but I guess hubby hasn't seen the 25 pounds I recently put on, cuz he brought the size 8 jeans I haven't been able to wear for abut a year and a half, so I went with more pajamas that were also in the "clean bag" of clothes.
I did have to chuckle to myself a few times, as the doctors would come and check on us, about very serious matters indeed and I wanted to say, "these are new pajamas, they have a slightly different pattern if you look close."
I even went to Sunday Service in my pajamas and flip flops today, but you know what, it was one of the best Sacrament meetings I have ever been to. Not because of the laid back attire, or the 30 minute shortened hospital version of the meeting, but because of what was going on in my heart, the gratitude was just overwhelming. I suppose that God knew what I had learned over the past few days...a Mother ALWAYS has it in her to reach beyond the level of grief and fear she perceives as her limit, if her child is on the other side of it.
Even if she is in flip flops and pajamas.
Cheers to Boston, my brave and beautiful son who showed nothing but strength and joy in the midst of so much poking and prodding. And as we left the hospital and traveled home, my heart cheered with him as he said, "I'm done with these doctors". You know what, I think we are!!!