A noise which has evolutionarily programmed me to sprint up the stairs before I even know what happened. It was pretty cool. Did you know this motherhood thing has an emergency autopilot setting?! Well it does. In like 0.73 seconds I was at the crib, finger-sweeping banana chunks out of Her airway. You know. So She could more properly SCREAM at me.
Something to the effect of, "I-just-puked-bananas-all-over-the-place-and now-they-are-in-my-nose-and making-me-gag-a lot-and ohmygosh-I'm-wet-too-and it's-cold-now-and everything-smells-like-pukey-banana-and mom!-I-think-I'm-not-feeling-too-good!"
She continued to play "fountain of Little One" the rest of the day. She was a cranky little fountain, too. That would be thanks to the over 104 degree fever. Oh dear.
We waited and washed things, waited and washed things, but She did not spontaneously heal, and so Little One's Doctor directed us to the ER. Where we met the Nurses of Ineptitude.
Who must have a cute chubby person out there that they reaaally hate, because they seemed to think that Little One would make a good voodoo doll. I'm talking 6 sticks (and really digging around for nearly half an hour) to take some blood. I'm talking three attempts (including a split tube from trying to force it where it clearly wasn't meant to go) to catheterize her for a urine sample. And antibiotics and blood literally spurting from Little One's leg while the nurse tried to force 5ccs into Her thigh. And a tourniquet so tight that blood vessels all over Her arm burst open. And then they said, "we didn't get enough blood. We'll have to stick Her again". At which point I had to fire them.
After 8 long hours we took Little One, both Her ear infections, and Her UTI and began the two hour drive home. J luckily met us halfway so Aunt M could go home already- she'd stayed with us the whole time- except when she left and brought me back a milkshake (if you look closely in the pics below, you can probably see a halo there).
Little One was so tortured and terrified and miserable by the NGHVBDay that She didn't sleep. All. Day. Not even in the car. Not until 11pm. How is that even possible?!
There was one thing that comforted Little One throughout the horrendous ordeal. Try to guess what it was. You'll never guess. It wasn't the little teddy bear given to Her by the hospital volunteer. It wasn't Her familiar blankie. It wasn't me. See this?
Little One de-escalated into this meditative pose three distinct times during our internment in the ER. What is She looking at? What could be so entrancing? What did those three episodes of calm have in common?
It was Jake. Bodies By Jake came on the hospital room TV three times while we were there, and Little One was transfixed. Belly dancing, commercials, and aerobics with Cathe were not worthy of Her attention. But Jake. Jake is special.
Little One is currently on the mend and we've put the No Good, Horrible, Very Bad Day behind us. It was not fun. But She's ok and I managed not to beat the Nurses of Ineptitude over their bleach-blonde heads with their own stethoscopes, and those are the things that matter. Plus, if we ever have any other traumatic events (knock wood) at least I will know what to do.
I will hit up blockbuster immediately for a copy of the latest edition of Jake. Stat.
Oh man Cera, this is pretty much the funniest thing ever! Not the horrible nurses and sicky part, but Bodies by Jake part - classic! I'm glad LO is feeling better
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