Showing posts with label er visit. Show all posts
Showing posts with label er visit. Show all posts

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Our holiday was icky.

I'm hoping everyone had a terrific Thanksgiving and indulged on some turkey!  Around our house half of us did that, the other half, not so much. 

The day before Thanksgiving, I was awake late into the night making pies and cheesecakes.  Thanksgiving day rolls around and I finished my contributions to our families feast.  Then it happened.  A started throwing up.  At first I thought maybe it was sinus drainage.  It wasn't.  She threw up all. day. long.  So, hubs took the two smaller ones and all the food to Grammy's house.  A and I hung out at home (we DID go over for about 15 minutes but promptly left).  By this time I'm nauseous as well.  Between the two of us we slept all afternoon and evening long.  Thankfully A woke up that night and was starving.  She ate everything in sight for about 30 minutes and has been fine since. 

Me, on the other hand, I just got worse as the days progressed.  By Saturday I had gotten sick a couple of times but was just really queasy.  Saturday night rolls around and all the sickness in me decided to come out.  The bathroom became my best friend for around 24 hours or so.  By Sunday afternoon, hubs had called my Mom and Grammy and alerted them to what was going on.  The three of them decided I needed to go to the ER.

Now, I'll be brutally honest here.  I rarely get sick.  Oh, I may get a cold, but to get REALLY sick happens maybe once every 5 or so years.  Seriously.  Yes, it's okay to hate me, I know I'm weird.  Hubs has only seen me this sick one other time in the 11 years we've been together. 

So, off to the ER I go.  Hubs stayed home and put the kids to bed, so their routine wouldn't be messed up and things would be "normal" for them.  Grammy took me to the ER and my Mom met us there.  I was taken back quite quickly.  It was determined I was severely dehydrated.  Not a huge shock with as sick as I had been.   They started and IV and gave me some nausea medicine.  Within about 30 minutes I was feeling a lot better.  By the time they had put all the fluids in me I felt almost 100% again.

By Monday afternoon I was back to laundry and keeping up with the kids.  Now I'm planning on making a turkey with all the fixings for dinner one night this week.  A has ask for it and I feel that we got jipped out of Thanksgiving.  Therefore a do-over is necessary.  Later this week, Thanksgiving, take 2.  I'll let you all know how it goes.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

No Ren, you can’t fly…

Last night was an eventful one around our house.  We finished dinner, got everyone cleaned up and ready for bed.  Then we sat down to veg out with the boob tube for a bit.  The kids were playing nicely in Ren's room and everything was peaceful.  Then all heck broke loose. 


We heard a *thud* and heard Ren scream.  A comes rushing down the hall pale as a ghost and Ren is walking after her.  I saw some blood and immediately got up to get the band-aids and peroxide.  Boo-boo's are nothing new around here.  Well, Ren pulls his hand away from his head and I screamed!  Chuck jumps up and rushes over to him.  Our little man had gashed his forehead open.  According to A, Ren had been standing on his toy box and attempted to fly (like Superman) onto his bed.  Which is about 3 feet away.  Guess what?  He missed.

I'm going to give myself a small pat on the back here for being able to handle emergency situations with a panic-calm.  I picked up the closest clothe looking thing next to me (which happened to be a red pair of shorts...irony?)and pressed it to Ren's head.  Chuck took over from there and guided him into the bathroom and continued to hold it there.  I meanwhile, pick up the phone and speed dial Grammy.  My call was like this (use a half crying slightly hysterical voice here)"Grammy, Ren fell and gashed his head and I'm calling the ambulance.  I need you!!" and click, I hung up. 

Then I dial 9-1-1 and get the ambulance on it's way.  Should I have called them first, yeah probably.  I had 2 other kids to worry about though and in NO WAYwas I going to the hospital alone.  While hubs sat in the bathroom with Ren, I ran around and grabbed my purse, Ren's jacket and shoes, hubs wallet and my camera.  Yes people, I grabbed my camera.  Irony being what it is, Grammy and the ambulance showed up at the exact same time.  The EMT's come in, bandage his head and hubs and Ren head off to the hospital in the ambulance.  Grammy made me sit down for about 5 minutes and breathe before she allowed me to head to the hospital as well.  I love Grammy!  She stayed with the girls and got them settled (because it was tramatic for them as well!).

I headed to the hospital and met hubs and Ren.  The doctor in the ER told us stitches were in order and got Ren set up with some stickers, a coloring book with crayons, and a movie on the TV.  That settled all of us enough to be able to tell Ren what was coming next.  We tried to explain it to him, but as any parent knows, a 4 year old doesn't always understand.

When they came in to tactually put in the stitches, I had to step out of the room(I'm okay with other people's injuries, but it's a whole other story when it's my kid).  Hubs stayed with Ren, but I couldn't take his crying and screaming.  It tore at my heart and I stood right outside the room with tears streaming out of my eyes.  It only took a couple of minutes to finish and I went right back in to grab my little man and hold him to try to calm his sobs.  It was all very traumatic.  That is until the doctor showed back up with a big ice cream for Ren.  Then he calmed down quickly.

When we got home, Ren showed his sisters and Grammy his "battle wound" as he called it.  Then in true curious Ren fashion, he headed straight to the bathroom.  We followed him and ask what he was doing.  He proceeded to climb onto the steps and check out his stitches in the mirror.  He looked at them and said "Mommy and Daddy, these are awesome!  I can't wait to show the kids at school".  Sheesh.  All that drama and he thinks they are the coolest things ever!  Ah well, that's my little man.

Moral of the story:  Kids can't fly. 


 I took this pic this morning.  He's smiling...lol