Brain Barf

May contain traces of nuts.

Saturday, January 26, 2008

Negligent blogger update

I'm still here...and I seem to be typing.

Crazy much has happened in my life lately, but little of it translates well.
So, I'll just type about today.

I just got back from the ER.
MFA (My Future Activist) is really sick.
It started last night and I ended up "sleeping" with him.
There was very little sleep.
I am usually THE ONE to turn to in crisis.
I don't freak out.
I remain calm and steadily maintain control of the issue.
I've been the rock, many times for my nieces/nephew, sisters and my own children.
One of the reasons I will make a fabulous ER nurse.
This boy has, of course, been sick before. He's even been to the ER once before when his twin smashed his finger in a heavy 1948 door hinge when he was two.
It was crushed, nail bed removed and needed surgery.

I am aware that I'm rambling.

Anyway.

MFA, who isn't able to sleep past 7am, who has to concentrate to walk instead of run everywhere he goes, who has the metabolism every super model dreams of, slept until 10am.
I then moved him to the sofa where I could better observe.
I checked on him every hour (meaning, in my OCD terms, every 5 minutes). Woke him often to eat or at least drink, and maybe take some Tylenol.
Because I'm a "responsible parent?" and he had the Flu-mist vaccine months ago.
About 3pm, Dad had gotten some pedialyte and I tried to wake him to drink it.
I couldn't wake him.
His cheeks were rosy red and he was burning up, even with the recent dose of Tylenol.
After a few tense minutes I got him to open his eyes.
I decided to take him to a urgent care/walk in clinic.
I tried to dress him.
When I called his name his eyes would flutter and he would turn his head and look behind him.
Clothes became un-important, and I took him to the ER in Jammie's.
In tears, while staving off meningitis thoughts.

There is something to be said about working in this hospital.
The staff knows me, and know I'm not freaker outer, even though I was.
The Doc knows me, because he has an on call room in one of our empty assisted living rooms.
We didn't get preferential treatment, sort of, because there wasn't anyone else in the ER.
The lab guy, whom I've sang Karaoke with many a weekend, was extra gentle with the blood draw, but there just isn't any way to ease a nasal swab.
MFA's white cell count was off the charts.
The influenza test was negative.
The Doc thinks that MFA has a severe case of Fifth Disease.
If I can keep him hydrated for the next 48 hours, we should be OK, but the Hershey squirts have kicked in.

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