Party in the ER, the Croupe Episode

I will start this out, for all the worriers, by saying that as of this afternoon, you would not know this child had been so sick. He is currently racing from room to room chasing the cat.

But at 2:30 this morning, I would have given anything for his normal ornery self. He had woken up a couple times in the night prior to that, just sat up and cried, and wanted some water. I knew he'd had a cough for a couple days, but had given no indication of anything more serious. Then the last time, I notice he was shaking. Shaking hard. He said he wasn't cold, and he didn't feel feverish, so I tried laying down beside him. He just wouldn't stop that shaking, and was crying softly and so out of it. My mom wasn't home, so I made an executive decision to go ahead and drive him down to the ER and make sure it didn't get worse. He just screamed in the car, in between throwing up a few times. And then finally a few minutes away from the hospital, he fell back asleep. I noticed he was breathing really hard as well.

So, wrapped up in his blanket, we went in and signed up. He snored on my shoulder and was so limp and hot. I could tell now that he was running a fever, and they confirmed it at 102.1 once we got back to the triage nurse. He kept gagging on the thermometer, so they had to take it the more 'uncomfortable' way. To say he was displeased with that would be a bit of an understatement. Then they gave him some armbands, and left me there for 45 minutes in that chair, with him sleeping soundly. I spent the time with my cheek pressed against his, feeling as his racing heartbeat thumped out of the side of his neck, knowing he was okay, but thinking I would give anything to take that heat away from his little body.

Finally someone returned, to tell me to wait back in the waiting area for a room to become available. Then they gave him some Ibuprofen to get the fever down. At least I found a double seat and he could lay down for awhile. After another hour or so, we got a room. The nurse was just so sweet. And he would proudly tell everyone he met that he was (holding up his fingers) "Three old". What a big boy! they would say every time. The only other bump in the road was when they wanted him to wear one of the gowns. You would have thought it was made of thorns and broken glass. Finally, when they left, I took it off. It was tear soaked at that point anyhow. Couldn't hurt him to cool off a bit with that fever anyhow, as long as he wasn't complaining.

The doctor, who was also so sweet and patient, said he probably had Croupe, and prescribed him some prednisone for a few days to relax and help his throat so he could breathe better. And more Ibuprofen to keep the fever down. By the time we left, he was fully awake and raring to go. I, however, wasn't so energetic. The positions I held so that he could keep sleeping have every muscle in my arms aching, and by this point we had been there for almost 5 hours.

Once home, he slept for about 3 hours, and he's been fine ever since. Me, I'm counting the minutes until bedtime. I wished I hadn't read the insert for the medication. I'm trying to forget what the words "May cause insomnia" might imply.

I have a date with a handsome three year old tonight to go see "Alvin and the Chipmunks". I only hope, as it is with most dates, that we can make it through a movie this time without anyone screaming "Are the CARS on yet??"

It's understandable, since this latest phase involves watching the movie "Cars" in entirety at least every two or three days. 5 minutes here, 30 minutes there. I can practically recite the movie by heart. I'm a dear Owen Wilson fan, and I still can't bear to hear his voice anymore.

Last night on our way home, as Brent was berating me for something or other as usual, I finally snapped a little bit. I think he was complaining because he couldn't reach one of his cars that he had 'accidentally' on purpose thrown on the floor just seconds prior. And it was relentless, as it is some evenings. I'm certain someone is just putting the day care cameras on 'loop', like on tv, and during that time when it looks like the children are napping peacefully, in reality the teachers and constantly tickling their feet with feathers, using chinese water torture, or other various nap warfare. Because I just KNOW that my child is not this ornery through any doing of his own.

So, as the whining was hitting an all time high, I simply looked back at him in the mirror and said "Brent, I cannot reach your car, for the 50TH TIME!". To which I got the normal reply of "YES YES YOU CAN MOMMY!!! Try it!! Try it!!". And I looked back again, smiled, and told him that I couldn't reach it this time, because the car was in... my butt. A strange tactic, to be sure. But potty humor is his new thing these days, and anything with the word "Butt", "Caca" or "Pee Pee" is always met with laughter.

Except this time.

"NO IT'S NOT!!!! It's NOT in your BUTT!!!! It's somewhere else MOMMY. SOMEWHERE ELSE and not YOUR BUTT"

And for anyone that knows me, this doesn't even sound like an out of the ordinary conversation, unfortunately.