Sunday Night in the ED
Having lamented my husband’s need to work away from us during the week, Jazzy made it his aim to keep him with us this week by getting sick.
It started with a cough and very quickly turned into a fever, his chubby cheeks and hands red and burning, and trouble breathing. I bundled him up and took him to emergency and with a temperature of 39.4 he was taken straight through after being seen by the triage nurse.
The doctor saw him and decided some panadol, home, bed and appointments with his GP every second day, starting the next day, would be appropriate. I wasn’t sure where he came from that you could make such appointments at short notice! They gave him his drugs and we were left to watch some kiddie shows and await his temperature going down.
Instead, it crept up, closer and closer to 40, his red hands soon became red arms and his breathing got more raspy and fast. We stripped him and I discovered a strange red, blotchy rash on his right shoulder, which didn’t blanch when pressed.
This, of course, led to some drama and panic, especially when another rash appeared under his left arm. Bloods were taken and a cannula put in as I held my boy down, crying and snotting all over his flushed little head. It was decided he would be admitted and treated for croup and Meningococcal, the latter as a precaution.
While Jasper wasn’t showing symptoms of Meningococcal, the sudden flurry of activity surrounding his rash had me in a tizz. It helped that they were relatively sure it wasn’t, but their tiny seed of doubt had me on edge.
Sunday night in the Emergency Department turned into Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday in the Pediatric Ward. A time of blood tests, false results (a positive for staph, from the hands of the person who took the blood), boredom, sleepless nights, stress and tears.
In the end, his croup started clearing up and he stopped needing the steroids to treat it, the rash started to disappear and all tests came back showing ‘nothing overly sinister’ and his bed was needed so we made our way home.
And my boy did a crazy happy dance which made my heart burst and, somehow, made the whole thing worthwhile.
He is still in recovery mode and has, ever so kindly, passed on his germs to Kahlei. I am still utterly exhausted from the whole experience and James has had a week off work we probably couldn’t afford him to have. It’s been a trying time. A stressful time. Eye opening.
A time to count my blessings. Of which there are many.
Linking up with Jess from Diary of a SAHM for IBot and wondering why my time in Emergency wasn’t nearly as interesting or inspiring as hers.