Monday, July 13, 2009
It's been a long. long weekend. Thursday morning, my little man started complaining of a headache. I pretty much ignored that because his first 10yr molar is coming in. Instead, I tossed him a tube of ambesol and told him to drink a glass of water.
By mid-day, his temperature had risen, and I sent him to bed. I took him to the pediatrician the next day after his temperature registered at 102.6. "It's just a virus," they said. "Keep an eye on him."
Ok. I took him home, gave him a corner of the couch, and a bottle of water, and waited
Saturday night, his aches turned into pains, and he couldn't really walk well or climb his ladder to bed. The pains seemed to be coming from his lower right side, and he miserably failed the "jump-up-and-down" test, so we went to the ER. Jim and I texted furiously the whole time and he kept me cheery in the face of not knowing what was going on with Jimmy.
The poked, prodded, hooked up an IV, checked vitals, drew blood, took urine, filled him with contrast, scanned, poked and prodded again. "It's just a virus," they said. "Keep an eye on him."
Ok. It's 2 AM on a Sunday and I have to be at church by 7:30/8. Sure. Why not.
Jimmy spent Sunday quarantined in Jim's office, and seemed to be getting better. Fever was down to 100.3 that morning, and his appetite was back. Abdominal pain was pretty much gone, and his spirits were high.
After church and lunch and naps, he said he felt much better and asked me to check his temperature. 103.7. Oh, good heavens. Took it again. 103.4. Jim told me it would be ok. Much muttering of "What do we do now?" ensued.
I did what any self-respecting, intelligent, mother of 2 older kids would do. I called my mommy. I told her the whole story. I did my best not to cry. (It sort of worked.) She told me it would be ok, and suggested that - since I'd tried everything else - I should put him in a tub of lukewarm water for 5 minutes and douse him, hair and all, then bundle him back up.
When the 5 minutes were done, Jim went up to get him out of the tub, then came down and said that he was a new kid. And he was! He was smiles and appetite again. He ate (a tiny) dinner and felt playful. I gave him one more dose of medicine for the fever and sent him to bed.
This morning, I handed him the thermometer and held my breath. 98.5. Hooray! We made it!