Friday, 27 February 2009

What a nightmare...

We left the house at 3:10 am to get to the airport by 3:30 for our 6:20 flight. Hubster had spent the night vomitting , bring the third victim of this vicious stomach bug our family has been battling. Luckily, Threepeat was no longer vomitting and had only had diarreah once in 24 hours, Middleman said that although his tummy really hurt, he could make it, so we made the decision to go. I am sure that halfway through the flight, Hubster was regretting his forceful decision, because he looked like death. He was white as a sheet, sweating and holding onto his barf bag for dear life...he was the next victim of this stomach bug.

Threepeat was a crankpot for the entire flight...crying and whining the whole way. I was livid with Hubster, but also felt so sorry for him...he did really look dreadful. The blessedly short flight (2 hours, 20 minutes) seemed to last for an eternity. Just before we landed, Threepeat pooped. I took him to the huge , clean, spacious hideously germ-filled hole in the wall of a washroom to change him and found not only diarreah, but brown urine. Like penny-coloured. I immediately panicked, thinking, “OMG...he’s dehydrated!” Dehydration has been my biggest fear since becoming a mother. When I got back to my seat, I told Hubster that we were heading straight for the clinic when we arrived at our house. He thought I was being ridiculous because Threepeat was SO much better. Yeah...so we thought.

We got to the house and I looked at his diaper and it was like brown paste, but in the front, not the back of his diaper, so I knew it was not poop. I immediately headed over to the hospital, which is literally a 5 minute drive away. MIL came with me because Hubster was almost comatose from the flu. Middleman was exhausted and slept all afternoon and Boy Oneder, bless his heart, entertained himself while the sickies slept.

I figure it was about 10:45 am when we arrived at Emergency. We waited for over an hour to be seen by anyone other than the initial triage nurse. Long story short, they confirmed that he was a little dehydrated, but couldn’t explain the brown “paste” for lack of a better description, in his diaper. He was still crying big tears and was very active, so at that point, his dehydration wasn’t critical. The tests that my poor angel had to endure were unbelievable. X-Rays of his abdomen, x-rays of his chest, blood work, insertion of an IV and, worst of all, a catheter to obtain a urine sample. To see my baby screaming and suffering through it all was absolutely unbearable. At around 5:00, the doctor told us that he was now severely dehydrated (sure...he cried out whatever water he had left in him) and ordered fluids through his IV. He also told me that...get this and you mothers out there imagine my horror...one of the x-rays shows what may be a tear in the lining of his lung as well as a blockage in his intestine. I nearly shit myself. He wanted to do a CT scan to confirm and that Threepeat may need surgery to repair the damage.

Clearly, this doctor has no idea what a nervous wreck I am when it comes to my kids. He was just doing his job, but he scared me to death.

I left Threepeat with MIL so that I could call Hubster. I lost it and told him he had to come to the hospital to relieve us. I sobbed into the phone. He arrived in five minutes and stayed with Threepeat while I drove MIL home. While I was gone, Threepeat had another x-ray instead of a ct scan because the radiologist suspected that the problem with the original x-ray was Threepeat moving during the picture and not a tear or blockage. At 6:00, they confirmed that the x-ray was fine. No tear or blockage. Praise the Lord.

We were to wait for our paperwork and then were free to leave. BUT...we had to wait for the nurse to remove his IV. Our lovely nurse that had been with us all day had left and we had to wait for the slowest, rudest, LAZIEST nurse on earth to come in to see us. I told him at least three times that Threepeat was beside himself, crying, exhausted and probably hungry...he ate NOTHING all day. The nurse kept promising ” two minutes, two minutes” but clearly he was on some other time clock because he didn’t come in until 9:15. THREE HOURS LATER. Threepeat was inconsolable. I was ready to drop and Hubster was running a high fever. All this time, Boy Oneder and Middleman were at the house, with very little food (I ran into the grocery store while MIL stayed with Threepeat because there was NOTHING in the house, not even bottles of water.

We got home at 9:15 and Threepeat ate some chicken noodle soup and sipped on water. He then had some applesauce and some more juice. He went to sleep at 10:00 and slept through until 5:00 when he started begging for his bottle (of milk). Diarreah loves milk and so I tried to give him juice. He FREAKED when he tasted it and cried, “Mook, mook!” until I caved and gave him a bottle of Enfagrow, praying he’d just sip it and hold it like he usually does. No dice. That kid started gulping it back. I woke Hubster up and told him to pour out all of the milk except for an ounce or two and that pissed Threepeat off, but he got over it pretty quick.

He had a quarter of a bagel for breakfast and has sipped on a bottle of water throughout the day. He had a bowl of fishies and some rice krispies with a teensy bit of milk. For lunch, he had a few spoonfuls of chicken noodle soup and two spoons of applesauce. So, I think, knock on wood, he’s on the mend.

We had to go back to the hospital this morning for a re-assessment. We arrived and they told us it would be at least two hours. Another day ruined for Boy Oneder and Middleman....poor kids. By the Grace of God, our nurse from the day before saw us and sneaked us in for a quick assessment. After the doctor asked us a few questions and examined Threepeat, we were free to go (all in less than 45 minutes). He had a popsicle while we waited and the doctor told us to keep him on the BRAT diet for a couple of days. He has had two poops today...one small one this morning and a bigger one at lunch time, but instead of being complete water, it’s a bit more pasty. I pray that means that things are getting better in his little tummy.
I have never been more afraid, stressed or anguished in all my life. I haven’t eaten nor slept in three days and I am a wreck. His diapers are still pretty dry today (except for his first one this morning which was nice and wet), so until that returns to normal, I won’t rest. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone. I realize now how lucky I really am. I can’t imagine what it’s like to be the parent of a child with cancer or something like that. Trying to keep Threepeat comforted, quiet and entertained for close to twelve hours was hell. My heart goes out to families who deal with much worse.

I am praying that the rest of our vacation just gets better and better and better.

Tim Hortons Roll Up the Rim:
Day One: Large: Please play again.
Day Two: Large: Win a Coffee - WOOT!
Day Three: Large: Please play again.
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