All seasons of the year are nice for eating chicken soup with rice

What could be better for an ailing household than some chicken soup? That's what's for dinner in these parts. Chicken noodle soup. I'm trying out this recipe.

Thankfully, it is only Ethan who is still sick with stomach ailments. The rest of us are mostly well with some sniffles and coughs thrown in. But, Ethan. Poor guy was a lot better yesterday and caught up on some schoolwork. He was ready to go back today but I'm afraid dinner last night was a little too exciting for his stomach resulting in fountains of vomit raining down from his top bunk-bed in the night. I have to wonder if he shook his head like a wild horse whilst puking, the trajectory was so great. Poor Drew was a recipient of the sick shower.

Hence, the mild and hopefully soothing soup.















Here's what I'm thankful for today. A washer and drier that work. A warm house and Christmas music, old and new. I love finding new Christmas songs on itunes. Right now I'm listening to The Friendly Beasts by Sufjan Stevens (sublime) and The Twelve Days of Christmas by John Denver and The Muppets (slightly ridiculous).















And my new front door wreath. It's the little things.

It's a long one

Drew was able to come home yesterday...thanks everyone for your prayers and sympathy. We are still waiting for some test results but he seems to be feeling much better.

Wednesday morning when he woke up coughing, gagging and throwing up, I wasn't all that worried because he has had several strange episodes since January where he couldn't keep anything down for several hours and then, suddenly, was all better. Of course I was a little worried about this developing pattern and began to wonder if it might be a food intolerance. The last time it happened, though, was April and I hoped the problem might have resolved.

This time, however, the vomiting just wouldn't stop and actually began to increase in frequency as the afternoon wore on. Finally, after hours, I called his pediatrician who recommended we head straight to the ER. His vomit was becoming quite colorful and his cries of pain ever louder. Turns out, stomach acid is neither tasty nor soothing to the skin.

I pulled Ethan and Drew out of their beds, prepared them as quickly as I could and we headed out. We arrived at the ER around 8 pm and were ushered into a small, curtained-off area, never dreaming we would spend the night there. Poor Drew continued to throw up, his mouth bleeding, for two more hours while various people stopped by, poked and prodded and asked the same questions over and over. Around 10 pm they put in an IV and he was able to get some fluids. That's when his vomiting stopped.

Ethan and Adam were wide awake and ready to run laps, climb mountains, tear down Gorbachev's wall and eat it but sadly were asked to sit still and STOP DOING THAT! Well, Adam was not asked to sit but I did silently beg for him to at least become sleepy like any normal baby might, hours after his bedtime. Instead, he squirmed and kicked in my arms until 1 am.

I sent Keith some messages but was not able to contact him and my battery began to beep.

Doctors ordered x-rays and blood tests and we all traipsed around the hospital to the x-ray room. They asked if I wanted to stand next to Drew during his pictures and I said that of course I would but, you see (don't you?), I have these other kids right here and what to do with them? Oh. So, Ethan, Adam and I squeezed ourselves in behind the little window in the x-ray room with a technician who apparently was not aware that ten-month old babies cannot give high-fives and aren't really amused by surgical gloves blown up like balloons with a face drawn on it. I appreciated the effort though.

Around midnight the doctor told us that they wanted to admit Drew. The x-rays looked good but they wanted to do further GI studies to rule out something like an impacted or twisted bowel. His white blood count was high as well.

I explained to them that my husband was out of town and I didn't have many options but I really wanted to stay with Drew. Everyone was very understanding and went off with promises of "working things out". In an hour or so, a new nurse or doctor would come by and try to convince me to leave Drew in a room with another family since there were no private rooms. I said that I would rather take him home with me or sleep outside his room in the hall if need be. "Oh well, I understand. We'll see what we can do."

Around 1 am, a very kind ER nurse decided to take matters into her own hands and rolled in another cot for us. We were surrounded by bright lights and loud noises but I was grateful to be able to stay. I lay at the end of both beds, listening to the sounds of "environmental services" mopping a few feet from me. Someone yelled a joke to a co-worker. A mother of a nearby patient told her sad life-story to an orderly. New doctors came in around 3 am, and asked us all the same questions.

6 am we were magically admitted to a room and trekked across the hospital to get there. More doctors, same questions, more tests. Drew had had enough. He begged for water and to get OUT. They did a blood draw and an hour later realized they needed to do another one. In between his cries, he slept.

Finally, it became clear we would be there for many hours, if not another night, so I called Keith on the hospital phone and he was able to head back. Which was surely a good thing. He was able to take over and stay with Drew that night.

In terms of a diagnosis, the GI studies (swallow and x-rays) did not show a problem. His white blood cell count came back down. Thursday night they did a blood culture to test for celiac disease. Results are pending. Hopefully, we'll have some answers soon.

What comes up if you vomit all day without eating? Why, stomach bile I suppose.

Taken by cell last night in the ER, right before my battery died. The kids and I spent the night and Drew is still there. Thankfully, Keith was able to cut short his trip and travel home today so he is with him now. Thereby hangs a tale.

Multitasking

What to do when one child needs immediate help in the bathroom while the other child requires assistance directing vomit into the bowl, while the third is trying to crawl into first the vomit bowl, then the toilet?

You decide.
I'll be over here in the corner whimpering.

Day 11: Icky sicky

Picture taken right before he hurled chunks all over me and the carpet. I know something is very wrong when my kids allow any cuddling.

Sickies

You know how when a week starts out badly you think to yourself in a strangely uncharacteristic way, "Not to worry, things can only get better", and then in a sadly familiar manner they only get worse?

Sunday night as Ethan lay wheezing and gasping, trying to get a breath, I comforted myself with the thought, "This has happened before. He'll get over it soon enough", because colds do seem to go right to his lungs but he recovers quickly. Happily, the next day he was much better. Sadly, his cold moved on to Drew who keeps no secret of his miseries. I think Drew is on the mend at last but now Adam has fallen prey and cannot lay flat without coughing and sputtering and gasping for breath.

Keith as well is stricken with a MANCOLD which is illustrated in this little video. Keith says this clip proves what he has known all along. Men really do get worse colds than women.

Sunshine on my shoulder

I won't bore you with another post about sickness and the dark, irrational thoughts that ruled my mind at four o' clock this morning. Drew is on the mend (I hope and pray) from a bout with croup and promised to stay healthy for a while. At least he nodded his head solemnly and said something that sounded like, "Aye!" When I asked him if he would please refrain from sickness for some time.














In spite of the germs, we made it outside today to play at a nearby park. It was perfect weather and we had the place to ourselves. Amazing what a little sunshine will do for the I-can't-do-this-another-minute-blues.

Portrait of a Stranger

Once again, my photo plans were foiled today. Drew had another seizure last night. It was a little less scary since we knew what to expect, although it lasted a little longer this time. Almost scarier than the seizure itself, is the period of disorientation that lasts for hours afterward. Drew doesn't seem to know who we are or where he is or to recognize anything as familiar.

So, after a sleep deprived night, Drew and I were back in the doctor's office today. I really like the kids' pediatrician and technically she isn't a stranger, especially lately..but it's the best I'm going to do today.

It's kind of a funny picture...she offered to hold Drew but I knew he would scream his head off so she just bent down to talk to him as he sat in his stroller.














Thanks again to all the creative, brave souls who joined in this week. It's so much more fun to do something like this with a group and I really enjoyed it.

From bad to worse

First of all, thanks to everyone for your sympathy, your stories and your prayers. I promise this is the last time I'll write about our current sickness. I hope.

Over the weekend, Keith and I both had a little visit from the flu fairy, fortunately we were each worse on different days. Even with his fever remaining fairly high, Ethan's behavior finally began to return to it's normal crashing, banging, jumping off the furniture state. So, at least he is recovering.

Last night, Drew was pretty fussy so I took his temp. and it was high. Even though we gave him Tylenol every four hours, his fever would rise significantly in between doses and he was miserable. Another fitful, fearful night's sleep for us all.

This morning, Drew's temperature rose to 103.6 and he wasn't due for more medicine so I called his pediatrician to check up on a dosage of Motrin to alternate with the Tylenol. I left a message for the nurse and went to take a shower. Keith was holding Drew and rocking him at this point and suddenly I heard him yell out, "I think Drew's having a seizure!"

Sure enough, his head was falling backward and his eyes rolling back as his whole body silently fixed and shook. Even though I knew what was happening and the likely reason for it, it was unbelievably scary. When he began to turn blue around his mouth and we weren't sure if he was breathing, Keith called 911 and I attempted to do some rescue breathing which may or may not have been necessary. He came out of it soon after that and began making little noises so we knew he was ok. The whole seizure was probably only two or three minutes but seemed a long, slow torture.

Sometimes it's nice to live within a stone's throw of the fire-station. The ambulance arrived within two minutes. They checked Drew's vitals and whisked us away to the E.R. Keith and Ethan stayed behind and Keith told me later that Ethan burst into tears as we pulled away. "How come I don't get to go in the ambulance?", he wailed. Keith explained that Drew was very sick. "But I'm sick TOO! It's not fair!"

We spent a couple hours or so at the hospital with poor, sleepy Drew getting poked and prodded, x-rayed and monitored. Febrile seizures are fairly common and he is ultimately ok but I would be very happy never to experience such excitement again.

Hasten Jason

I forgot how kids need to be reminded to vomit into a receptacle. I guess it's more natural to simply open your mouth and let it fall where it may. Our carpets have several new stains, some purple (grape flavored Motrin), some bright blue (Gatorade). I am definitely not a fan of wall to wall carpeting and landlord permitting, I would gladly tear out ours with my hands or even my teeth. They are an extreme embarrassment.

The point here is that Ethan was diagnosed, thanks to a traumatic nasal swab, with INFLUENZA. Yes, it's just the flu, which for strong, healthy adults might mean a couple days of fever, aches, runny nose and general misery. For kids however it's a lot worse and Ethan is still pretty much the same as he was Tuesday. I'm trying not to think about Drew getting it.

All of this fun was reminding me of a conversation with a co-worker several years ago when I worked at a group home. Part of our job was dealing with a variety of bodily fluids on a daily basis. In order to lighten the mood after one particularly nasty episode, my fellow caregiver began to list all of the synonyms she knew of, real or made up, for the act of vomiting. There were a lot. My favorite was "Yak".

Under the weather

I was telling my mother the other day how very thankful I was that no one in our household had been sick for a long time. I mean for at least a year, other than a runny nose and a fever that came and went fairly quickly, we have all been well. With Ethan in preschool three mornings a week, interacting with a class of nineteen other kids, this is pretty much a miracle I think.

Well, Ethan has finally succumbed. I was up with him most of the night, and by default, everyone else was kept awake since we all sleep within feet of each other. At one point when I was sitting beside Ethan's bed on the floor, trying to take his temperature which turned out to be 103.6, Drew decided we must be having a party. I mean, really, if everybody keeps waking you up every half hour or so, it must be daytime, right? So he stood happily in his crib, waving and babbling at the excitement.

Eventually I brought Ethan into our room so that Drew could sleep. He did sleep fitfully and his fever came down some. In the morning, I was trying to get a feel for his symptoms and asked him how he felt. "Like a bear ate me", was his reply. Poor guy, he still has a pretty high fever but was finally able to keep down some toast and applesauce. And, so far Drew is just fine so I really can't complain.