Home again!
Here we are home again. This is a very welcome development. After three nights on the kiddie sized bed my spine was howling for surcease - it still is quite a bit. Ow! DD seems much recovered although we have no more idea of what is wrong than we did when we were admitted. We are still waiting for the coeliac test results and for a poo to emerge for the lactose one. She is still reluctant to drink enough to keep me happy but is responding OK to bribery and deal-making of the 'drink this and we can put the telly on/have a crumpet/go outside' variety. We will have to wait and see how she goes on.
The whole thing started on the Wednesday afternoon wth DD switching from happy, outside running about child to listless, droopy child complaining of nausea and pain. By bedtime she was being sick. She slept but kept waking up in sudden pain or covered in vomit nice! We took her out to the doctiors and by then she was so listless she didn't even look at him. He sent us to the hospital - and I got all teary. The doctor and nurses at the hospital were great. By the end of the admittance procedure I was all calm and a bit reassured. The doctor, a handsome, obviously imported specimen called Dr Eche, was terrific. He took a hugely detailed history and was soo gentle with her. They had to put a line in to take bloods and while it clearly felt odd to her it equally clearly did not hurt her at all. They then strapped up that hand like nothing I have ever seen to imobilize the it and stop her hurting herself. Her expression when they finished was the most animated she had been and was 100% 'oi! you're not finished here! get this stuff off me!'
We were given a room with a bed for me - blessed amenity - by about 3.30am. DD fell asleep at once and was quite peaceful. nothing left to throw up by then. Myles went home and came back in about 8 am with things like clean clothes which were very much needed.
The three days in the hospital were steadily improving ones really. The first day she wanted books read to her, close cuddles, songs sung and not much else. They put her on a drip that night and she woke perky bright and HUNGRY the next morning (I was less perky having spent large chunks of the night unwinding her from the drip tube - she is like her father and only rolls one way). In spite of the hunger though she would not eat most of what was offered and was a right stroppy little wagon (as they say in these parts) when offered anything she didn't fancy. We had a telly that played DVDs so we watched Balamory until sick of it. (Annoyingly the remote was bust so not all the DVDs we had would play and those that did had to play right through - no select function.) They took her off the drip around 5pm but she did not seem to notice the freedom. She was asleep by about 9. Then she woke up at midnight violently nauseous and upset. She even gave a few test heaves as it were but was not actually sick. After that my night was a bust as between my feet sticking over the end of the bed and my arm stretched out to the side to hold her hand in the cot, I felt properly crucified. She was subdued and grumpy all day until the doctor came in. Being the weekend the rounds doctor was the junior, dead of night and weekends man Dr Eche. Rowan was as delighted to see himn as you could wish: bouncing on the bed and chatting away, wreathed in smiles. I was just staring at her wondering where this new child had come from. Wonderful Dr Eche prescribed activity (plus he remembered all her clinical details without prompting - I like him!) and so we were allowed outside. This was a tonic and a half for DD who ran herself to a standstill round the grounds and then did the cricuit again when her grandparents arrived to show them where she had been and all the things she had done. It was very hard to keep her in the hospital room after this though as she had taken her license to go outside as a license to rule the hospital. Her proper consultant arrived about 7pm and saw this bouncy child and discharged her - still befuddled about what had been wrong in the first place. So we came home and DD was so excited by that it was nearly 10.30pm by the time she slept. OW!
We are now creeping around like the zombies we are waiting for the other shoe to drop. Thank all the gods she is feeling better but this time last week she was better too. ... Until she is back on her old metabolic pattern I won't really rest easy.
The whole thing started on the Wednesday afternoon wth DD switching from happy, outside running about child to listless, droopy child complaining of nausea and pain. By bedtime she was being sick. She slept but kept waking up in sudden pain or covered in vomit nice! We took her out to the doctiors and by then she was so listless she didn't even look at him. He sent us to the hospital - and I got all teary. The doctor and nurses at the hospital were great. By the end of the admittance procedure I was all calm and a bit reassured. The doctor, a handsome, obviously imported specimen called Dr Eche, was terrific. He took a hugely detailed history and was soo gentle with her. They had to put a line in to take bloods and while it clearly felt odd to her it equally clearly did not hurt her at all. They then strapped up that hand like nothing I have ever seen to imobilize the it and stop her hurting herself. Her expression when they finished was the most animated she had been and was 100% 'oi! you're not finished here! get this stuff off me!'
We were given a room with a bed for me - blessed amenity - by about 3.30am. DD fell asleep at once and was quite peaceful. nothing left to throw up by then. Myles went home and came back in about 8 am with things like clean clothes which were very much needed.
The three days in the hospital were steadily improving ones really. The first day she wanted books read to her, close cuddles, songs sung and not much else. They put her on a drip that night and she woke perky bright and HUNGRY the next morning (I was less perky having spent large chunks of the night unwinding her from the drip tube - she is like her father and only rolls one way). In spite of the hunger though she would not eat most of what was offered and was a right stroppy little wagon (as they say in these parts) when offered anything she didn't fancy. We had a telly that played DVDs so we watched Balamory until sick of it. (Annoyingly the remote was bust so not all the DVDs we had would play and those that did had to play right through - no select function.) They took her off the drip around 5pm but she did not seem to notice the freedom. She was asleep by about 9. Then she woke up at midnight violently nauseous and upset. She even gave a few test heaves as it were but was not actually sick. After that my night was a bust as between my feet sticking over the end of the bed and my arm stretched out to the side to hold her hand in the cot, I felt properly crucified. She was subdued and grumpy all day until the doctor came in. Being the weekend the rounds doctor was the junior, dead of night and weekends man Dr Eche. Rowan was as delighted to see himn as you could wish: bouncing on the bed and chatting away, wreathed in smiles. I was just staring at her wondering where this new child had come from. Wonderful Dr Eche prescribed activity (plus he remembered all her clinical details without prompting - I like him!) and so we were allowed outside. This was a tonic and a half for DD who ran herself to a standstill round the grounds and then did the cricuit again when her grandparents arrived to show them where she had been and all the things she had done. It was very hard to keep her in the hospital room after this though as she had taken her license to go outside as a license to rule the hospital. Her proper consultant arrived about 7pm and saw this bouncy child and discharged her - still befuddled about what had been wrong in the first place. So we came home and DD was so excited by that it was nearly 10.30pm by the time she slept. OW!
We are now creeping around like the zombies we are waiting for the other shoe to drop. Thank all the gods she is feeling better but this time last week she was better too. ... Until she is back on her old metabolic pattern I won't really rest easy.