The sick

We had our first Emergency Room visit with Annie on Friday night. Here's how it went down:

 

Thursday was special person day at school. Rick was Annie's special person. 100% symptom free.

 

She woke up on Friday morning after a bit of a restless night and her cheeks were flushed. By the time we were supposed to be getting ready for school, she had a 99.4 degree temperature. I debated sending her, but those cheeks were a dead give-away that something was up so we stayed home and snuggled.

By noon I was convinced I had been played. But whatever. We tried on jewelry and new hairstyles and ate endless amounts of yogurt. It was a nice afternoon. She did seem pretty worn out by naptime so I thought she might have a little bug.

 

She woke up about 45 minutes into her nap with a horrible cough. Since it was Friday and I had never heard her cough like that, I figured it would be better to err on the side of caution and I took her into the doctor to get her checked out. She had 101.5 fever when we were there, but was her usual energetic self whilst in the doc's presence. She didn't cough once and the doc proclaimed that she just had a cold and this was probably as bad as it was going to get.

 

She seemed to get worse almost instantly after leaving the doctor's office. She just seemed lethargic and looked really sad (as you can see above). But a little motrin and Daddy coming home seemed to make everything better.

 

We put her down for the evening at 7:30. I made a snide remark to Rick that I felt like we were in for a long night. I am so smart, sometimes. Or I should learn to not make negative confessions. Either way....at about 9, right when all the urgent care places close, Annie started coughing again. And wheezing. And gagging. It was horrible. She had 104 temp. I called our pediatrician's exchange (only because Rick reminded me that it actually exists) and the nurse asked to listen to Annie breathe. After a determining that Annie had "stridor" (wheezing sound on both the inhale and exhale, which is a sign that there is upper respiratory swelling), she advised us to get Annie into a steamy bathroom while we got everything ready to go to the ER.

 

SIDEBAR: We have one bathroom in our house. I have been complaining to Rick about the lack of hot water in this bathroom for, oh, EVER. Since he doesn't have much hair and doesn't take baths, he thinks it's fine. Here's the actual exchange with the nurse on call:

 

Nurse: Get her to the bathroom and get it really steamy in there. That should help her for the ride to the hospital.

K: Ummm, we have horrible hot water pressure. It will take 10 minutes for the water to just get warm and even then, I am not sure it would be enough.

N: ok, well, how about just running hot water in the sink and putting a towel over her to collect the steam?

K: Again, it takes a long time. And there's not much hot water pressure. (at this point I do start the water in the sink, just so she can hear that I am trying to be a team player)

N: What about your other bathrooms?

K: We only have ONE BATHROOM!

N: Oh really? Oh. Ok. Well, then just probably best to skip all that and get her to the ER.

 

I resisted the urge to defend our decision to live in a house that is so clearly not equipped to handle a family of three, much less any medical emergency. But at least now I have all the ammunition I need to justify fixing our hot water situation. I mean, at this point, it's practically a matter of life and death. Rick is on board.

 

Back to the story....

 

Annie vomits on our bed for good measure right before we leave for the hospital. We threw out our only pair of spare sheets last week during the great basement purge of 2013 because who needs spare sheets? Between this and the bathroom situation, at this point I am seriously questioning every life decision we have ever made.

 

Rick drives because I want to be in the back with Annie. I resist the urge to comment when he brakes at a yellow light.

 

After clarifying that we were there for Annie and not for the hugely pregnant momma/me, we were swept away into the pediatric ER and seen almost immediately. Of course, I had to make some "unless you have a two for one ER special" remark that was met with a tight smile and a shake of the head. No one gets me.

 

Thanks to Doc McStuffins, Annie was the perfect patient. Possibly a little too perfect. I am sure they went back to check her file to verify that they didn't have some sort of Munchausen's by Proxy situation on their hands since she knew the whole routine: listen to the chest, listen to the back, check my ears, check my throat, lifts up her arm for temp check. Maybe we just have a future doctor on our hands?

 

The doc confirmed that she did have "classic croup" and that we were right to bring her in. Since her stridor wasn't constant, we avoided breathing treatments and she was given steroids to reduce the swelling and that was that. I am sure that saved us $1,500.00.

Annie coerced the nurse into giving her a "pop pop" at midnight. This is probably the only thing she will remember about this visit-that she got to have a pop pop in her PJs while it was dark outside. I knew she was feeling better when she looked at me and said "you not funny, Kawee (Kaly)". Like I said, no one gets me.

 

After sleeping a little too soundly for my liking, resulting in me checking on her approximately 75 times in the night, she woke up and was all better. Still a little hoarse and had a touch of a cough, but nothing a few days in her Sophia dress won't fix.