It started Friday morning when I noticed he was crying a little differently, and he didn't seem to be satisfied after eating. He was very fussy, and I thought he felt a little warm but was not confident in my temperature-taking skills. I had intended to take him to the breastfeeding clinic anyway, and I knew they could check his temperature there.
I rushed around getting ready to take him, thinking maybe he really was just hungry and having a hard time getting enough to eat. I was still a bit worried, so Aaron went with me for moral support. And in the back of my mind, I wanted him there just in case.
Once I got to the clinic, I took him back for a temperature check. 101.9. This is where my first tears of the day came, not to be the last. Yikes! Way too high for my little 7-week old boy! The nurse who took it called my pediatrician for me, but the receptionist put her through to her voicemail (which was obviously no help whatsoever). The nurse suggested I could go home and wait for them to call me back, but I explained that last time I had been to the doc she said a fever this young was an automatic emergency room visit.
Since we were already down the street from the hospital, I asked the nurse if I should just go there. She said that she would. So, I went out and got Aaron and we headed up the street.
Thankfully there was no wait at the ER. And thankfully they still took him even though I stupidly left his medical ID card at home (my mom babysat, I left it out for her). They brought us back to be processed and then the real fun began.
I don't know what order things happened in, it's a bit blurry. But there was the IV for antibiotics and fluid. There was blood taken, well, they tried to get blood at the same time they did the IV but couldn't get enough for the lab so someone from the lab had to come back and poke him again. They needed a urine sample, and since you can't exactly tell a baby to pee in a cup that means he had to have a catheter inserted. Apparently when they did this his bladder was empty, so the left the catheter in with a tube taped to his thigh hoping his bladder would get full in the meantime. They allowed me to feed him and as I did, I noticed the smell of pee - and noticed the tube was still empty, which told me his catheter had probably come out.
Yep.
So they had to REDO his catheter, thankfully that time they got urine right away so they didn't have to leave it in.
Pretty much that whole time I was crying. Between bending over the table trying to comfort him while he was screaming the worst screams and turning so red his face was almost purple and wipe away all of the actual TEARS he had and me crying out of worry, fear, and that good ol' mommy-guilt (lots of illogical coulda shoulda wouldas), I gave myself quite a headache.
Then there was the spinal tap to check for meningitis. Another small miracle was that the spinal tap didn't seem nearly as traumatic for him after everything else. Seemed like the worst part was the numbing shot and the way they had to hold him bent over and scrunched up into a ball to get access to his spine.
The doctor told me he would have to be there at least a day for antibiotics.
They moved us up to pediatrics sometime in the afternoon, I think maybe 3 or 4 (we'd left home at 8:30am). As that nurse was admitting us, she said it would be at least 2 days, maybe 3. And that Friday counted as day 0. So, that meant we'd be there until Sunday, maybe Monday. She asked if I was breastfeeding, and since I was she said I would get meals during his stay (score!). Then she said that only one parent can stay! Oh, poor Aaron, he took that really hard. Obviously I needed to be the one to stay in order to feed him.
But, as I've noticed seems to be the case with San Antonio Hospital, they say these things and then sometimes take pity on you and let you bend the rules. As in, they let Aaron stay. I have a sneaking suspicion my friend who is a nurse there had some hand in getting that to happen, but I'm not 100% sure on that. Either way, it was a blessing.
There was another bed in the room, but we were not allowed to use it. There was a chair that pulled out into a "bed" so we slept in shifts on Friday night/Saturday morning.
By Saturday afternoon Isaac was doing much better, he was smiling and happy, definitely more like the little baby boy I know.
Saturday night we scored yet another amenity, an extra chair-bed so we could both sleep at the same time.
If I told you more, it would be describing a whole lot of hospital void - I feel like that's where my weekend went. I am just so glad and thankful that he didn't have meningitis or any other scary infection. Apparently it was just some type of virus, and we'll never know for sure.
I am also so grateful for friends who have our house key and came to take care of poor Scout while we were gone. It was definitely a blessing to not have to worry about her while we were there.
That's my weekend in a nutshell. I hope we never have to have another one like it!
Here's a pic of Isaac's feet with all of his various accessories. IV, heart monitor wires, and oxygen/pulse thingie. I think that's the technical term for it, too. :P
