This really is not my best year ever. Because, y'know. All about me.
Before I even get going, I'm jumping to the end. Everything is (almost certainly) fine, and no one is spending the night at the hospital. We are home, we are sleeping, we are much, MUCH better than we were just under 24 hours ago.
That said, we spent most of the day at the hospital with the Frog.
I woke up at about five am to hysterical MOMMY SOMEONE HAS SET ME ON FIRE shrieking from the Frog. Being that it was the Frog, this is not atypical. This is the child who did not sleep longer than 2 hours at a stretch until he hit eleven months old, and upon waking would always shift from completely sound asleep to awake and screaming as though I am being tortured oh my God why is someone not dealing with this?!? Let me tell you this--while you get used to interrupted sleep as a parent, you do not get used to being woken up from a dead sleep by hysterical screaming.
So, even now, this is not atypical for the Frog, so I stumbled out of bed, found him lying in bed sobbing and asking for "up with Daddy". Somehow, he had not woken up the Monkey, so I picked him up, took him back to bed with us, and handed him over to Daddy. The Frog climbed up mostly around the AH's neck, and kept begging to be 'up with Daddy' even though really, there was not much more 'up' that he could get, and he was certainly 'with Daddy'. Eventually, after a bottle of water, he calmed down and fell asleep, draped over the AH, and sometime after that, the AH returned him to his crib.
When we got up around seven to get the babes up, only the Monkey was awake. Which is pretty weird. The Frog, as well as the waking up and going from dead asleep to siren like screaming, does not stay lying in bed. His eyes flash open, and he's on his feet before the rest of his body has figured out that he's conscious. Lying in his crib when we're in the room doesn't happen. The AH having to reach in and pick him up, from lying down, definitely doesn't happen. And the Frog being limp, floppy, lethargic, soaked with sweat, and barely responsive? No. That's not right at all. Despite having had two bottles of water since going to sleep, his diaper was barely damp. We take his temperature twice, and it isn't even elevated--if anything, it's low. When we get downstairs, and he's still limp in the AH's arms, not even lifting his head, I say fuck this, we're going to the ER.
The AH drops me off with the Frog, and heads home to get Monkey ready for daycare, and to go to work, since he's supervising a provincial exam, and can't get off work unless he absolutely has to. I head straight for the ER main desk, and the triage nurse is all over it. I'm still registering when she comes over with a lancet and says she wants to check the Frog's blood sugar. I say go for it, and prepare for there to be yelling, because, well. Finger poke. The Frog doesn't lift his head, doesn't flinch, doesn't even blink. Not a great sign. And his blood sugar is a 3 (which I suppose is not good--I don't know much about blood sugar).
Still no fever, nothing super significant with the rest of the vitals, but no one is happy about how limp and lethargic he is, so we get a room immediately, and they send in the lab techs to do their vampire thing. I'm all ready to hold him down when he fusses. He lies there, big blue eyes staring up at everyone. Doesn't flinch, doesn't blink, doesn't squeak, not when they poke him, not during the entire blood draw. They keep praising him for being so good, and I'm very quietly biting my lip and trying not to say 'this is REALLY freaking me out, and I know it would make your job harder, but I really wish he was screaming his head off right now'.
They decide not to wait for the pediatrician to see him, and put an IV in too. Same deal--he lies there, watches them do it (I had to look away, my kid is clearly braver than I am) and he doesn't even need me to hold his arm in place. And they didn't wait for the emla cream to kick in, or do any numbing--just straight to the poking so we could get some fluids on board right away. No reaction.
We get settled in our cubicle, and the doctor checks him out while the lab results come back. His sugar's now 2.7, and his white blood cell count is up. So they're saying dehydrated, sugar's low, and he might be fighting some kind of infection. They want a urine test. Which is pretty hilarious (on any other day, maybe) because it's not easy to get a urine test from a 2 year old in diapers. You can't hand over the little cup and tell them to pee. It involves a little ziplock baggie thing that you pretty much tape in place. Which he thought was stupid, and he didn't like, and which pretty much resulted in him refusing to pee for almost 4 hours, because what the hell is that thing you taped to my bits, crazy nurse lady?
We get the pediatrician, and she's not as panicked as the ER doc (I had this guy last time I was in the ER with the Frog--same ped too, but I like her a lot better than him--and she's great with him). Frog was quiet, not at all his usual self, but she managed to get a couple words and some smiles. She doesn't like that we're not seeing an obvious reason for the (possible) infection, since all the obvious spots are clear--and since he's not running a fever. And, just to make everything even better, apparently there've been a few cases of viral meningitis in town lately, so she had to bring that up, so that she knew if there'd been any cases at his daycare (there hadn't, but still, cue the Mommy having a total inner panic attack at OMGWTFMENINGITIS), as another something to rule out.
He's not showing all the symptoms of that, and the only way they could be sure was to do a lumbar puncture, which she really didn't want to do unless it looked a lot more likely, since a) lumbar puncture, b) two year old, c) having to sedate him to do it. She decides she wants to observe him for the day, finds him a bed in the peds ward, and we finally get to leave the ER and go up to the same ward we were on last time (which is the same ward he was born on, and lived for the first 12 days of his life. Some of the nurses still remember him. It's the big blue eyes, I swear).
The boy is done work at this point, so he and I switch off, which makes the Frog very happy because between napping on Mommy (two hour-plus naps in the middle of a crowded, noisy ER? This is not my child), and making big eyes at nurses and doctors, he's been begging for Daddy to come. Also begging for me to take it home. Right. Break my heart. He stays, I go to work for an hour (get nothing accomplished, gee, I wonder why with OMGWTFMENINGITIS running through my head), and then I go home. I pack a bag up for the Monkey, and my mom arrives and gets her things, so she can take her for the evening, since we have absolutely no idea what the rest of our day is going to be like. PS: Thank God for grandparents.
The doctor checks in on him again at about 4pm, and he's doing a lot better (one more BIG nap, so clearly still not himself, but he's improving), but she decides to keep him another couple hours, until after shift change to make sure. The Frog's tests have come back, his sugars are fine now, he was showing some earlier signs of dehydration, but we've fixed that too, and he's got his energy back (also his power of flirt). They take him off the IV, but keep it in for the moment, and he's cleared to start walking about.
The boy and the Frog spend the next... 3, 4 hours hanging out in the maternity/peds ward, walking the halls, visiting with the pregnant and labouring ladies and dads, and of course (it is the Frog, after all), charming everyone who he comes into eye contact with. I think he convinced more than a few of them that what they were going through was going to be ultimately worth it, because look how cute! Of course, their babies will not be as cute as my babies. There is only one Frog (and only one Monkey). But they could be a close third. Maybe.
Finally, finally, FINALLY we saw the doctor again just after 9:00pm. She's happy with how he's doing, and she thinks that what happened this morning was just the perfect storm of conditions. An overly hot day the day before--hottest we've had so far--his tummy being a bit off, so him refusing to eat, not drinking enough. An interrupted night's sleep, and what she's suspecting was a night terror (we described the nightmares they both have sometimes, and she thinks that's what they are). All of it combining into just a really lousy, really scary morning. She thinks he's going to be fine, but totally encouraged us to bring him back in if he got lethargic again. Seeing as at the time, he was practically bouncing on the bed, and giving her his very best flirt, we felt that we had our Frog back, and felt comfortable going home (it helps that we live a 5 minute drive from the hospital).
I'm exhausted, the boy is exhausted, the Frog finally got tired and went to sleep around 10, 10:30. The boy is staying home with him tomorrow, and I'm getting a ride to work so that if the Frog does get sick again, or wakes up not feeling well, the boy can immediately take him in, but I think he's going to be all right now. My Monkey is staying the night with her grandparents to keep her out of the line of sick-baby-fire, and I miss her and want to hug her badly, but we'll get her back tomorrow, if everything keeps going well. And this story has a happy--if tired--ending, because we all got to come home at the end of the night, and we're all doing okay now. If, as aforementioned, really fucking tired.
I'm really, really grateful right now that I live in Canada. It's something I will never take for granted. When we woke up this morning and my baby was sick, we were able to take him right in, without worrying about any potential financial hardship. We were able to put him first, and not worry that it would keep us from being able to pay rent or buy groceries.
I'm grateful that I have a boss who immediately told me, when I contacted him, to take care of my family, and keep him posted, because he genuinely and legitimately cares about me, and about my family. I'm grateful that my parents were able to take my daughter tonight, so that we could focus on my son.
I'm grateful that I had friends and family thinking of us, and praying for us. I'm grateful that I have a husband who is a hands on, involved, and wonderful parent, and that we were able to share and balance out a stressful day of being in the hospital with our son.
And I'm really, really grateful that we're home now, and that everything is fine. Something else that I will never, ever take for granted.
That said, we spent most of the day at the hospital with the Frog.
I woke up at about five am to hysterical MOMMY SOMEONE HAS SET ME ON FIRE shrieking from the Frog. Being that it was the Frog, this is not atypical. This is the child who did not sleep longer than 2 hours at a stretch until he hit eleven months old, and upon waking would always shift from completely sound asleep to awake and screaming as though I am being tortured oh my God why is someone not dealing with this?!? Let me tell you this--while you get used to interrupted sleep as a parent, you do not get used to being woken up from a dead sleep by hysterical screaming.
So, even now, this is not atypical for the Frog, so I stumbled out of bed, found him lying in bed sobbing and asking for "up with Daddy". Somehow, he had not woken up the Monkey, so I picked him up, took him back to bed with us, and handed him over to Daddy. The Frog climbed up mostly around the AH's neck, and kept begging to be 'up with Daddy' even though really, there was not much more 'up' that he could get, and he was certainly 'with Daddy'. Eventually, after a bottle of water, he calmed down and fell asleep, draped over the AH, and sometime after that, the AH returned him to his crib.
When we got up around seven to get the babes up, only the Monkey was awake. Which is pretty weird. The Frog, as well as the waking up and going from dead asleep to siren like screaming, does not stay lying in bed. His eyes flash open, and he's on his feet before the rest of his body has figured out that he's conscious. Lying in his crib when we're in the room doesn't happen. The AH having to reach in and pick him up, from lying down, definitely doesn't happen. And the Frog being limp, floppy, lethargic, soaked with sweat, and barely responsive? No. That's not right at all. Despite having had two bottles of water since going to sleep, his diaper was barely damp. We take his temperature twice, and it isn't even elevated--if anything, it's low. When we get downstairs, and he's still limp in the AH's arms, not even lifting his head, I say fuck this, we're going to the ER.
The AH drops me off with the Frog, and heads home to get Monkey ready for daycare, and to go to work, since he's supervising a provincial exam, and can't get off work unless he absolutely has to. I head straight for the ER main desk, and the triage nurse is all over it. I'm still registering when she comes over with a lancet and says she wants to check the Frog's blood sugar. I say go for it, and prepare for there to be yelling, because, well. Finger poke. The Frog doesn't lift his head, doesn't flinch, doesn't even blink. Not a great sign. And his blood sugar is a 3 (which I suppose is not good--I don't know much about blood sugar).
Still no fever, nothing super significant with the rest of the vitals, but no one is happy about how limp and lethargic he is, so we get a room immediately, and they send in the lab techs to do their vampire thing. I'm all ready to hold him down when he fusses. He lies there, big blue eyes staring up at everyone. Doesn't flinch, doesn't blink, doesn't squeak, not when they poke him, not during the entire blood draw. They keep praising him for being so good, and I'm very quietly biting my lip and trying not to say 'this is REALLY freaking me out, and I know it would make your job harder, but I really wish he was screaming his head off right now'.
They decide not to wait for the pediatrician to see him, and put an IV in too. Same deal--he lies there, watches them do it (I had to look away, my kid is clearly braver than I am) and he doesn't even need me to hold his arm in place. And they didn't wait for the emla cream to kick in, or do any numbing--just straight to the poking so we could get some fluids on board right away. No reaction.
We get settled in our cubicle, and the doctor checks him out while the lab results come back. His sugar's now 2.7, and his white blood cell count is up. So they're saying dehydrated, sugar's low, and he might be fighting some kind of infection. They want a urine test. Which is pretty hilarious (on any other day, maybe) because it's not easy to get a urine test from a 2 year old in diapers. You can't hand over the little cup and tell them to pee. It involves a little ziplock baggie thing that you pretty much tape in place. Which he thought was stupid, and he didn't like, and which pretty much resulted in him refusing to pee for almost 4 hours, because what the hell is that thing you taped to my bits, crazy nurse lady?
We get the pediatrician, and she's not as panicked as the ER doc (I had this guy last time I was in the ER with the Frog--same ped too, but I like her a lot better than him--and she's great with him). Frog was quiet, not at all his usual self, but she managed to get a couple words and some smiles. She doesn't like that we're not seeing an obvious reason for the (possible) infection, since all the obvious spots are clear--and since he's not running a fever. And, just to make everything even better, apparently there've been a few cases of viral meningitis in town lately, so she had to bring that up, so that she knew if there'd been any cases at his daycare (there hadn't, but still, cue the Mommy having a total inner panic attack at OMGWTFMENINGITIS), as another something to rule out.
He's not showing all the symptoms of that, and the only way they could be sure was to do a lumbar puncture, which she really didn't want to do unless it looked a lot more likely, since a) lumbar puncture, b) two year old, c) having to sedate him to do it. She decides she wants to observe him for the day, finds him a bed in the peds ward, and we finally get to leave the ER and go up to the same ward we were on last time (which is the same ward he was born on, and lived for the first 12 days of his life. Some of the nurses still remember him. It's the big blue eyes, I swear).
The boy is done work at this point, so he and I switch off, which makes the Frog very happy because between napping on Mommy (two hour-plus naps in the middle of a crowded, noisy ER? This is not my child), and making big eyes at nurses and doctors, he's been begging for Daddy to come. Also begging for me to take it home. Right. Break my heart. He stays, I go to work for an hour (get nothing accomplished, gee, I wonder why with OMGWTFMENINGITIS running through my head), and then I go home. I pack a bag up for the Monkey, and my mom arrives and gets her things, so she can take her for the evening, since we have absolutely no idea what the rest of our day is going to be like. PS: Thank God for grandparents.
The doctor checks in on him again at about 4pm, and he's doing a lot better (one more BIG nap, so clearly still not himself, but he's improving), but she decides to keep him another couple hours, until after shift change to make sure. The Frog's tests have come back, his sugars are fine now, he was showing some earlier signs of dehydration, but we've fixed that too, and he's got his energy back (also his power of flirt). They take him off the IV, but keep it in for the moment, and he's cleared to start walking about.
The boy and the Frog spend the next... 3, 4 hours hanging out in the maternity/peds ward, walking the halls, visiting with the pregnant and labouring ladies and dads, and of course (it is the Frog, after all), charming everyone who he comes into eye contact with. I think he convinced more than a few of them that what they were going through was going to be ultimately worth it, because look how cute! Of course, their babies will not be as cute as my babies. There is only one Frog (and only one Monkey). But they could be a close third. Maybe.
Finally, finally, FINALLY we saw the doctor again just after 9:00pm. She's happy with how he's doing, and she thinks that what happened this morning was just the perfect storm of conditions. An overly hot day the day before--hottest we've had so far--his tummy being a bit off, so him refusing to eat, not drinking enough. An interrupted night's sleep, and what she's suspecting was a night terror (we described the nightmares they both have sometimes, and she thinks that's what they are). All of it combining into just a really lousy, really scary morning. She thinks he's going to be fine, but totally encouraged us to bring him back in if he got lethargic again. Seeing as at the time, he was practically bouncing on the bed, and giving her his very best flirt, we felt that we had our Frog back, and felt comfortable going home (it helps that we live a 5 minute drive from the hospital).
I'm exhausted, the boy is exhausted, the Frog finally got tired and went to sleep around 10, 10:30. The boy is staying home with him tomorrow, and I'm getting a ride to work so that if the Frog does get sick again, or wakes up not feeling well, the boy can immediately take him in, but I think he's going to be all right now. My Monkey is staying the night with her grandparents to keep her out of the line of sick-baby-fire, and I miss her and want to hug her badly, but we'll get her back tomorrow, if everything keeps going well. And this story has a happy--if tired--ending, because we all got to come home at the end of the night, and we're all doing okay now. If, as aforementioned, really fucking tired.
I'm really, really grateful right now that I live in Canada. It's something I will never take for granted. When we woke up this morning and my baby was sick, we were able to take him right in, without worrying about any potential financial hardship. We were able to put him first, and not worry that it would keep us from being able to pay rent or buy groceries.
I'm grateful that I have a boss who immediately told me, when I contacted him, to take care of my family, and keep him posted, because he genuinely and legitimately cares about me, and about my family. I'm grateful that my parents were able to take my daughter tonight, so that we could focus on my son.
I'm grateful that I had friends and family thinking of us, and praying for us. I'm grateful that I have a husband who is a hands on, involved, and wonderful parent, and that we were able to share and balance out a stressful day of being in the hospital with our son.
And I'm really, really grateful that we're home now, and that everything is fine. Something else that I will never, ever take for granted.