Saturday, we celebrated MiMi's life with family and friends. It was a good day. We got BK3 back mid-afternoon, and sadly, it was downhill from there. Saturday night, li'l man ran 102 fever, up to 103 through midnight, and needless to say, Mama and Baby didn't sleep a lick. He was congested. I was a nervous wreck. I quickly got a flashback of his first few days at home after delivery. I'm lucky I didn't have an anxiety attack. LOL. All day Sunday, same news. I thought the Tylenol would help, but li'l man was more and more stopped up and feverish. Miserable. For all parties involved. When I got home from work, I noticed he was having trouble. He was panting, retracting a little and still had the fever. The triage nurse on call told us we might want to take him into the ER. What? Hold up. ER? My li'l dude didn't need to go to the ER. This was crazy. But when his condition didn't improve, we decided it was time to take him in. I was exhausted from 2 nights of no sleep; Worried so much that I couldn't keep anything inside me (and no I wasn't vomiting); And now we were packing up for the ER....on a Sunday night. DING DING Let the fun begin. We didn't even make it into the car outside, without some bum on the street asking for a cigarette....seriously I thought I was in a dream. Baby Brannan not breathing well, loading up for the ER and then about to get jumped. LOVELY.
I sat in the back seat of Brannan's car and tried to keep BK3 calm, but that didn't work. I was a nervous wreck myself. I quickly understood why mom's worry so much about their kids. I hated my li'l dude being sick. And I was sick for him...literally. Needless to say the OLOL ER was a circus. I'm surprised we didn't take a number. Between the numerous "sick" kids running around playing with the toys (isn't it their bedtime?), loud Disney channel blaring on the one TV (hello, there's a football game on people; it's Sunday night) and my baby crying...I didn't know who was going to lose it first...me? maybe. Thankfully mom insisted on coming. So there we were, Brannan (trying not to touch anything), Me (trying not to mess myself), Baby B (miserable), and Mom (seasoned ER attendee)....I looked like a teen mom. Every time I held BK3, he'd cry...so mom took him most of the time. We got him triag-ed so they say....and the nurse said she couldn't hear anything in his chest....oh well. We waited to see the dr. Hour after hour after hour. We saw some mighty exciting things.
Prospect #1: A 3 year old little girl who looked like she had blood drawn from 4 different places. Running playfully. Loud. Slapping her older sister. The usual.
Propect #2: Another 2 or 3 yr old little girl. Looked pretty sick. Following prospect 1, who clearly they didn't know one another. Hello mom, this is the ER...I don't think I'd let my toddler follow another obviously sick child around.
Prospect #3: Family of 6. Went to get Subway while they waited. Not one of them seemed ill on any account. But they were hungry...so they got their Subway...then about 30 minutes later I heard one say "K Y'all, let's go". And they were gone. Cool Field trip to the ER.
In walks Prospect #4, who walked in with Prospect #5 who was wheeled in on a stretcher. Looked about 13 (girl). They parked her stretcher. She got up. Went to the desk. Then chilled in a chair. Cool. Prospect #4 clearly wearing pj pants with a shirt slogan'ed "Chick Magnet" Sureeeeeeee.
(All prospects ended up leaving, after enjoying a meal of course....)
...Brannan's still trying hard not to touch anything.
4 hours gone by. No name called. BK3 had fallen asleep. I looked at mom and say "Hey, I'm done. Let's go....this is crazy" Mom asks me if I'm sure I don't want to wait....But I had a feeling we weren't going to get seen til the next day...I was ok with staying up night #3 and just going with it. So we left. That was a fun adventure. No sleep. Exhausted. Contaminated by crazies in the ER. Yet leaving entertained nonetheless.
Sunday night was as expected, awful. BK3 was miserable and so was Mommy. At 8:01 I called the Pediatrician, who got me an appt for 9:00. 8:30 rolls around and I'm heading out the door with Bk3. I realize....My keys are in Brannan's back seat from the night before. It took everything I had not to break down and cry right there. To this day. I still do not know how or why I didn't. Daddy sped home, got me the keys, I sped to the Dr and still made it but 5 minutes late. HOLLA. BK3 gets tested for everything but of course it's just a nasty Virus. Great. So I get to keep suctioning his nose til his brains come out...Not sure if he likes being congested more, or the process of suctioning. I think he'd rather stay congested.
In the grand scheme of things I learned 2 things:
I'd rather be sick any day, if BK3 didn't have to be.
Don't Worry. Be Happy.
Oh & #3.....don't touch anything in the E.R.
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| BK3 in the Dr's office...still smilin' |
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