Nov 13, 2010
Thursday morning when I walked in to the hospital The Baby greeted me with a big smile. The first smile in 7 days. She was obviously feeling better as evidenced by the photo above of her yanking on every wire and cable in her hospital bed. She was also dangling over the edge head first on a few occasions. I grabbed Nurse G in the hall way and informed her it was time to put The Baby in a crib. The Genius had spent the night with her on Wednesday but on Thursday night The Baby would be going it alone. If she was indeed, feeling better she would never stay in the above bed.
Thursday afternoon the fever spiked again and the smile vanished. Seven relentless days of high temperatures.
The Genius saved the day and volunteered to spend the night again on Thursday. When I arrived on Friday morning I was greeted by this crib:
Zipped in on all four sides, The Baby was pissed. I prefer to keep this blog rated G even though at times I'm thinking R-rated thoughts but pissed sums up her attitude so nicely.
And then it occurred to me. Why this looks just like Cinderella's carriage! I love your Cinderella carriage!
Surprisingly, she bought it. Problem solved.
Still not eating or drinking The Genius struggled with The Baby the entire night on Thursday and with help from the nurse was able to get about 3 teaspoons of juice in The Baby. It had been 7 full days without one bite of food. Her only source of fluid was her 50cc/hr continuous IV.
The Genius arranged the bed chair to face The Baby Thursday night. This is the scene she awoke to:
Ah, what a sweet picture I commented to The Genius. Yeah? Check out the finger. "I think this sums up her current attitude towards me trying to get her to drink last night," replied The Genius.
After the medical team made rounds expressing concerns to The Genius about The Baby's lack of fluid or food intake I arrived armed with Pomegranate applesauce, organic yogurt, organic oatmeal I had cooked that morning and an organic banana smoothie. The genius brought up fresh blueberries, cantaloupe and honeydew melon from the cafeteria. The Baby downed it all. I mean think about it people. When you have refined taste buds like The Baby do you really think you would ingest hospital food? gag.
Fortunately, Dr. Friendly, a physician I have known for years, arrived to listen to The Baby obviously following up on his little medical student ducklings. We discussed The Baby's highly evolved palate. Favorite foods being Indian Curry and stir fried tofu from our favorite spicy Thai restaurant. Oh, and McDonald's french fries. (I mean who in their right mind does not like those salty, greasy, hot little bundles of artery clogging tater strings?)
I informed Dr. Friendly that at this point the aversion to fluids was purely behavioral having spent enough sick days with this pint sized twerp to recognize sick vs mule headed.
It's not what you know. It's who you know. Dr. Friendly (still chuckling over the curry) told me I knew where they were if we got in trouble at home and penned the discharge orders.We were home by noon.
Today The Boy has a fever of 101.4. I have the sore throat from hell and am honking green snot. The Genius is vomiting. At 4:42 AM I awake to The Teenager crying out on the baby monitor.
Because it only lasted two minutes I did not have to break out the Valium rectal rocket. While I'm sitting next to her waiting out the seizure, The Baby instantly needs a nebulizer treatment. I am up and down the stairs for one hour.
This morning, The Teenager wakes up and yells, "When I have a seizure my head beats like a drum the next day."
"Oh...did you have a seizure last night?" I ask innocently.
I dish out Motrin to the entire family like M and M's.
Home Sweet Home!
Posted by SECRET PEPPER PERSON: at Saturday, November 13, 2010