it…out

Tommy got to eat hospital food this weekend, and he wasn’t visiting anyone.

He had been sick all week, since Sunday. I don’t remember how many times we took him to the doctor, but I think we are on the clinic’s Christmas card mailing list now. We took him to the ER Thursday night because his fever had spiked and he looked more like an 8-month-old heroin addict than a baby. They sent us home after awhile, but we returned to the ER the next day. They said he was dehydrated and that they needed to start an IV. I had been at work for all of this and arrived at the hospital just in time to walk in on the second of several failed attempts at starting an IV in his arm.

Now keep in mind that Tommy is our first and only child. So watching him being forcibly held down while tourniquets were tied to his arms as his little bloody feet (they tried to start one there too) shook from the heartbreaking screams errupting from his painfully bright red face was by far the single hardest thing I have ever done in life, and I got an A in machine language in college. They finally got the line started, and after he got some fluids in him, he felt much better. It just took a few nights of hanging out, playing Wario Ware, eating hospital food, and generally doing nothing.

He is happy to be home.
/naptime