18/02: Back to Life, Back to Reality
It's been a bit of a roller coaster health-wise around here recently. I did start a detailed blog on the whole miserable fortnight, but there are only so many times you can write 'and then she was sick again' before your blogging muse dies of boredom. Instead, dear, gentle reader, I shall treat you to The Abbreviated Virus, hoping to bask in some sort of bizarre subliminal association with The Reduced Shakespeare Company's Fifteen Minute Hamlet.
So...
In the space of an hour:
Smallest Child, formally known as Tin Tum, throws up. Several times. In several different rooms.
Frantic mopping follows. Smallest Child deposited screaming into bath. Where she promptly throws up again. Twice.
Parents of Smallest Child slightly concerned about bump-to-head incident the previous night.
Smallest Child conveyed to Emergency Room, accompanied by Family and Bucket.
Over the next four hours:
Mother of Smallest Child finally convinces ER desk lady that lack of a Social Security number does not invalidate health insurance.
$100 extracted from purse of Mother of Smallest Child.
Smallest Child and Sibling of Smallest Child installed in Jungle Room.
Several deployments of Bucket.
Popsicle.
Bucket.
Medicine.
Bucket.
Gatorade.
Bucket.
Bucket.
Bucket.
Parents of Smallest Child wish they'd brought along a Bigger Bucket. And a change of clothes. Or two.
X-ray.
Bucket.
Another x-ray.
Bucket.
Juice box.
Bucket.
Injection, screaming.
Bucket.
Sleep.
Wake Smallest Child and offer crackers and unidentified red liquid.
Bucket.
Bucket.
Bucket.
250ml of I.V. fluids. No magic cream. Smallest Child can only muster a whimper in protest.
Return home.
Bucket.
Bucket.
Bucket.
Next few days (could have been months, sure as hell felt like it).
Food, bucket, repeat ad nauseam. Literally.
Smallest Child (the Walking Petri Dish) mutates virus into Adult Felling Form and infects both Parents. At The Same Time.
Parents compete to see who is Most Ill, and therefore gets to stay in bed. Parent with Y chromosome wins, as has Man Virus.
More buckets deployed.
Sibling of Smallest Child develops 103F fever. Dosed with Motrin, given large pile of DVDs, shown pantry and left to fend for self.
So... the Doc thinks it was probably Rotavirus. How Jess managed to escape it we don't know, but thankfully she did. I'm not sure I could have faced cleaning up after 4 pukers. Geoff and I recovered relatively quickly, but I think it's only today, 2 weeks on, that I can say that Emma is really back on form. She's certainly been making up for lost eating opportunity. She's also developed a taste for the Hard Stuff - Coke. She drank a whole can this evening while I was distracted. I'm hoping the caffeine high will wear off soon, as she's been in her bedroom bouncing on the bed and whooping for the last hour and a half.
Update:
11:15pm. Still awake. Stopped bouncing, still singing.
So...
In the space of an hour:
Smallest Child, formally known as Tin Tum, throws up. Several times. In several different rooms.
Frantic mopping follows. Smallest Child deposited screaming into bath. Where she promptly throws up again. Twice.
Parents of Smallest Child slightly concerned about bump-to-head incident the previous night.
Smallest Child conveyed to Emergency Room, accompanied by Family and Bucket.
Over the next four hours:
Mother of Smallest Child finally convinces ER desk lady that lack of a Social Security number does not invalidate health insurance.
$100 extracted from purse of Mother of Smallest Child.
Smallest Child and Sibling of Smallest Child installed in Jungle Room.
Several deployments of Bucket.
Popsicle.
Bucket.
Medicine.
Bucket.
Gatorade.
Bucket.
Bucket.
Bucket.
Parents of Smallest Child wish they'd brought along a Bigger Bucket. And a change of clothes. Or two.
X-ray.
Bucket.
Another x-ray.
Bucket.
Juice box.
Bucket.
Injection, screaming.
Bucket.
Sleep.
Wake Smallest Child and offer crackers and unidentified red liquid.
Bucket.
Bucket.
Bucket.
250ml of I.V. fluids. No magic cream. Smallest Child can only muster a whimper in protest.
Return home.
Bucket.
Bucket.
Bucket.
Next few days (could have been months, sure as hell felt like it).
Food, bucket, repeat ad nauseam. Literally.
Smallest Child (the Walking Petri Dish) mutates virus into Adult Felling Form and infects both Parents. At The Same Time.
Parents compete to see who is Most Ill, and therefore gets to stay in bed. Parent with Y chromosome wins, as has Man Virus.
More buckets deployed.
Sibling of Smallest Child develops 103F fever. Dosed with Motrin, given large pile of DVDs, shown pantry and left to fend for self.
So... the Doc thinks it was probably Rotavirus. How Jess managed to escape it we don't know, but thankfully she did. I'm not sure I could have faced cleaning up after 4 pukers. Geoff and I recovered relatively quickly, but I think it's only today, 2 weeks on, that I can say that Emma is really back on form. She's certainly been making up for lost eating opportunity. She's also developed a taste for the Hard Stuff - Coke. She drank a whole can this evening while I was distracted. I'm hoping the caffeine high will wear off soon, as she's been in her bedroom bouncing on the bed and whooping for the last hour and a half.
Update:
11:15pm. Still awake. Stopped bouncing, still singing.
JG wrote: