A weekend with big plans deteriorated swiftly. We had scheduled our annual tree grab for Saturday, but the poor health of the brood postponed it till the next day. By mid-afternoon Saturday the baby was utterly miserable, tugging at her ear and screaming. The wife bundled her up and made her way to the Urgent Care facility. After a relatively brief wait they confirmed our suspicions that the baby had a nasty ear infection - the second one in a month. More antibiotics, please.
Meanwhile, back at the homefront, the Girl spiked a nice fever for the second day in a row. We knocked it down with tylenol and ibuprofen and decided to keep our eye on her.
Sunday the baby's misery continued, as did the Girl's fevers, so the tree hunt was again postponed. By noon, the Girl's fever was climbing and fearing another bout of kidney infection it became my turn to bundle a kid up and head off. I opted for the ER knowing that they would be able to check her urine.
Four hours later we left - no kidney infection, but a nasty set of tonsils. Kissing tonsils is the term used when they are so swollen they touch one another. That's my Girl. Strep came back negative, but the rapid test can give false negatives 15% of the time. In any case, there was more amoxocillin added to the kitchen counter in addition to the steroid they gave her in the ER to reduce the swelling.
Today her tonsils are just as swollen and her misery index (self and inducing in others) is pretty high. My great fear is that she has mono.
As she and I sat in the waiting room yesterday amongst the sick and wounded, a father carried in his son. The kid was roughly 9 or 10 and had a bloody towel wrapped around one foot. A sister, perhaps a year or two older than the kid, accompanied them. There seemed to be no sense of panic amongst the three and they waited to be seen with the rest of us.
In the exam room later, seperated from others by the complex of curtains, the Girl and I awaited the results of her various tests. The kid with the bloody towel was wheeled in and slipped into his partition, his father and sister by his side. Eventually, they began to treat him and it was obvious from the overheard conversation they were going to inject a local anesthetic to start the process. As they inserted the needle the kid began whimpering horribly, "Daddy, Daddy!" It was gutwrenching to hear. The medical staff and his father tried to calm him, but it sounded pretty painful and his cries continued. It almost made me weep for the kid. When they finished, one of the staff asked the father what happened - "Did he drop a bowling ball on that toe?" "No," said the father, "It was an anvil." There was an audible gasp - "An anvil?!" The father added, "I told him it was too heavy, but do kids listen?"
I was so glad the towel was wrapped around that toe.
And despite the cries from him when he got the injection, I stand in awe of that boy's calm demeanor for the whole time he waited. That was one tough kid.
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5 weeks ago