Last Monday, a rather quiet and peaceful evening went bad.

Both kids refused to eat any supper. Noah got sick in the bathtub, and Tucker did just after he went to sleep. We spent the entire night up tending to them. Noah threw up all night long, and finally stopped somewhere around 6:00 am. Tucker's throwing up didn't last all night, but he certainly didn't sleep soundly.

Morning came much too quickly.

Noah was sleepy and lethargic all day long. She couldn't keep any fluids down. Tucker's tummy seemed to be bothering him, too. He just wasn't his usual happy-go-lucky.

That evening, the bug struck me. I spent the night in the bathroom, while daddy tended to the restless babes.

Morning came, and Noah still could not hold down any fluids. I called the pediatrician, and they recommended to come right over.

Daddy had to take her - I was still feeling queasy. They made four attempts in the office to get an IV in her arm to treat her dehydration, but failed. So they sent her to the hospital.

Several hours later, on the fifth attempt, the pediatric nurse got the IV in successfully. By this time, Tucker and I had made it over. Somehow the thought of my daughter in the hospital made my nausea just go away.

She was still throwing up any fluids. The doctor ordered some medication to ease the nausea, and within an hour, she was sucking down lemon-lime pop and popsicles. And soon after that, she was singing her ABC's. That was the first bit of relief I'd felt in two days.

She and I slept soundly through the night at the hospital. By morning, she was still keeping down juice and pop, and the pediatrician said we could go home in the afternoon.

We did just that.

She was completely drained of her energy. She had no desire to get up from her bed or from the couch, unless someone was carrying her.

We struggled to get her to drink anything once we got home. So Friday morning, we took her back to the pediatrician. By the time we got there, she seemed to be feeling better. (Of course.) She was drinking juice and the doc gave her a popsicle. We were sent home - which was just fine.

By Saturday evening, she was showing some signs of life...wanting to get up, play with her toys and read books. She was still moving slowly and was wobbly under foot.

Today - Sunday - she really seemed to be on the mend. She had an appetite for toast, crackers, juice, water and popsicles. She walked around the yard and played in the sandbox. She even had several moments of being "bossy and fiercely independent." Yes, she must be feeling better.

I don't know what has happened in the world since last Monday night...but I don't feel like I missed anything. I know my little girl is getting better, and that's all that matters.

Comments

Anonymous said…
I could easily cut your post out, edit the names and throw it onto any number of other blogs because it seems that this misery has been going around.

I'm grateful that it didn't hit our house so bad but I'm crossing my fingers that it doesn't cycle back to us in a nastier form.

It's been a week since you posted so I hope that doesn't mean that everyone is still sick!

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