This time it was a sick baby and a sick mama.
Baby Wonder woke up at the beginning of the week with a sky high temperature and a thin layer of vomit all over his sheets. Since this happened at 5 AM, and I wasn't all there yet, I didn't register these things immediately. I had no idea what was on his sheets, since there was nothing on his PJs. Way too early for brain teasers.
He has been teething molars forever so restless nights and early mornings aren't out of the ordinary. Neither is a snot-covered pillow case, since his nose runs more than a leaky faucet.
I put him on the couch with a sippy cup and a blanket, but before I can get upstairs to check the sheets again, he vomits all over himself. I scoop him up to put him in the bath and that's when I realize he's burning up. How I missed it in the first place, I have no idea.
So the bath is multipurpose: clean him up and cool him down. He throws up the Motrin I give him while he's still in the bath, so I do the only thing I can think to do before 6 AM. I call my Mother In Law. It is decided, that since his fever is at 103.3 and he isn't keeping medicine down (and the cold bath did nothing but make him furious) that we were bound for the ER.
I have made brief references to my loathing of our local ER before, but here is my full on declaration. I HATE the ER staff of Licking Memorial Hospital. If this gives away the somewhat anonymity of my family in this blog, then so be it, but I hope someone of importance reads this and does a nice, clean sweep of every disrespectful, rude, and downright careless employee of that department. I have dealt with other LMH employees who have been wonderful, so I am left to ponder the specifics of this department. What is it about helping people at their most desperate that inspires such disregard in doctors and nurses? I understand that it is busy and stressful, but if your way of handling that stress level is rudeness, then find a new job.
After 3 hours, some nausea medicine, and ONE temperature check in TRIAGE, we are sent home. I spent 3 hours in the ER with my occasionally crying, occasionally sleeping toddler watching Mickey Mouse and seeing if he'd throw up again. They didn't check his temp or give him anything to lower it. By the time I got him home, it was at 102.7
On a side note, I have some seriously fabulous friends, one of whom actually brought me Tim Horton's and a Gatorade to the hospital so my preggo self wouldn't wither away and die from lack of food, since it appeared we would be there until the Second Coming.
Back in the bath he went. We spent the day between the bathtub and our sheet-covered couch, though thankfully he kept everything down for the rest of the day. My wonderful Mother In Law came by after work with what looked to be half of the Walgreen's stock of Pedialite products. Baby Wonder likes some flavors better than others, but I'm telling you, that stuff is gross. I'm glad he doesn't realize it.
As a mom, it can be so frustrating when direct answers are elusive. I don't like hearing "We don't know why he's sick" or "it could be anything from a 24 hour bug to Meningitis" (BTW who actually says that?!?! A LMH ER doctor, that's who)
Every parent wants direct action when it comes to their child, so when it doesn't happen it is bound to be frustrating. It's hard to figure out when you should just deal with something on your own at home, or when it's time to go see a doctor. It's especially hard when everything that happens is the first time it's happening. Who wants to keep the feverish baby at home when, 2 days later, he has some horrific disease that could have been caught early (unless you go to LMH, of course. No catching anything but a bad attitude there).
In the end, it's just instincts and good guesses. But I guess that's everything about parenting, huh?
The next day, Baby Wonder woke up with no fever, and kept the fever off all day. Guess it wasn't Meningitis, eh, Doc? He was still a little out of it, but acted like he was feeling much better.
Unfortunately, this Mama wasn't too far behind on the sick train. Whatever Baby Wonder had, it caught up with me, kicked me in the shins, and left me crippled on the couch for a day and a half. I'm on the upside today, and Baby Wonder went on an errand run with Daddy all morning so I could rest. It's just me and my dog, who seems to think she rates more of the couch than I do. Brat.
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