So... Friday night.
I'm still processing this, and it's going to be a train of thought narrative. Stop now if you don't like that form.
Movie night and sleepover with the kids. A daughter with no appetite, complaining of a stomach ache. Get a barf bucket, tuck her in. Tuck son in. Get both kids to sleep. Read for awhile. Go upstairs because daughter is so sad. Take temp - 99*. Give ibuprofen, and hugs. Go back downstairs and read some more. Hear random exclamations indicating restless sleep.
11:30, hear "Owie! Owie! Owie!" and sad crying. The pain in her stomach is worse, she can't sleep, and is clearly miserable. Realize that this falls into the category of "Not Good" and attempt to figure out the logistics of an ER trip with a daughter who is in pain while a son who is oblivious continues to sleep. Comfort daughter, decide to call her dad to either bring her to the ER, or stay with son. He stays with son.
ER: 12 am. Arrive, register, they take vitals, and try to get a urine sample. No luck. Wait.
Wait some more. Watch asthmatic pregnant woman get rushed ahead of us. Watch guy with smashed foot go ahead of us. Get pillow and blanket from nurse, and tuck daughter in on a couch. Watch daughter sleep. Wait. Wait. Doze. Wait.
2:00 am. Get brought to exam room. More vitals. Dr. comes in, does exam. Based on presentation of symptoms, lack of barf, and low grade temp, possibilities are a bladder infection or appendicitis. They need to do a blood draw to check for infection, still need a urine sample from a dehydrated kid, and will have to do an x-ray to check the appendix.
2:30 am - Nurse runs an IV line to draw blood and give fluids. My daughter does not move her arm. She is scared, she cries because the pinch feeling hurts, because she's so tired, because this freaks her out a little. (Me too, little darling, me too.) I sing her a song, and hold her face to look in my eyes so she won't see the needle.
3:00 am - stomach x-rays. She loves this part, of riding on the bed to the x-ray room, trailing along an IV post.
4:00 am - Watching Little Einsteins on playhouse Disney. Finally - pee happens.
4:45 am - test results come back, high bacteria count. My sense of relief at this news is overwhelming. Thank goodness it is this, because that means we can go home - not get admitted for surgery.
5:00 am - talk w/ Dr. about the meds daughter is allergic too, and which one works best in these instances.
5:15 - first dose of antibiotic.
5:45 - discharged from ER.
6 am - home to sleep, to tuck in daughter, give her kisses for being brave, to send her dad back to his house, to crash hard until son wakes up.
7:15 am - Wake up with son.
------
I can absolutely say I could live happily never having another night like that. Ever.
There's something terrifying about knowing your child has a hurt you can't fix, and can't identify. When she feels so terrible that on the way to the hospital, she says "Well, maybe this is when God wants me to live with him." How can you even sleep? You can't. You just hold her, and watch her, and soak in every moment, waiting and hoping that it's not as bad as your fears. Praying while you rub her back, and brush her hair away from her face. Being strong in the moment, because you must be. Because she needs you to be there for her, to tell her the truth about what's going to happen, and why it's happening, and what the doctors and nurses need to know and find out.
I'm sobbing while I type this, because it's the first time I've had a chance to let this out - the terrible fear, and the wondrous relief. *Just* a UTI -- which, sucks, yes. But it's so much easier to treat that than it would have been to call her dad and say "We're staying at the hospital, she needs her appendix out" and figure out logistics of work, and school, and child care and holiday travel while trying not to worry about some doctor cutting into my darling girl's little body.
I don't know how the parents of kids who require frequent hospital care do it, day in and day out. But I know for myself, that's an experience I could live without.
No comments:
Post a Comment