at the ER

I'm sitting next to baby Doodle in an ER room at CHOP (Children's Hospital of Philadelphia). He's asleep, finally. He threw up twice this morning after having 2 teaspoons of watered down Gatorade. He was so weak and lethargic. I called the after hour nurse line (which is CHOP for us) and the nurse told me to make an appointment to see his pediatrician this morning.

The doctor said he was borderline dehydrated and was so drained that he couldn't start recovering. She suggested taking him to the hospital to get an IV of fluid to reboot his poor little body.

I let everyone know at the doctor's office that I'm sure he picked up this bug at their office. He was there on Friday for his two-year well visit. The nurse said, "yea, it usually takes two days to see symptoms." Yup, two days after Friday was Sunday, the first day of BD's illness. He's not in day care and the only kids he came into contact with are not sick.

Mr. Doodlebug took a cab from work and met me at the ER. Our friend who works at Penn met us there to offer her support.

I don't know what it is about having kids that makes people such cry babies, but I've cried three times today. Baby Doodle hated being at the doctor's office. He kept saying, "Mommy carry you out the door." Then he hated being in his hospital room. Then he hated having the IV connected to his little hand. They taped his hand to a firm, small pillow to keep the tubes in place. He hated that too. I lied next to him and rubbed his back until he fell asleep. I stealthily removed myself from the bed and the attending doctor came in to check BD, again (the resident and his pediatrician already had, not that I'm complaining about the thorough care he's getting here). Baby Doodle was awake and crying again. When the attending left I crawled back onto his bed and helped him fall asleep again. And that brings us to the present.

An uplifting post, I know.