So What Happened
Oh man! Is it good to be back. If you follow my page on Facebook, you would have seen that my son had a febrile seizure on January 29th. It was the worst moment of my life and I can't really write about it - the actual moment. But I will say that I thought my son was dying and the memory still makes me want to scream, cry and throw up. I wouldn't wish this on anyone to ever witness and I will never forget it. And when he is older, and he is speaking, and he gets in trouble, he will most likely bring it up because that will stop me in my tracks and want to hug him. Stop! Mommy hug!
So I won't go into detail about the actual event because I just can't right now, but I did make some observations over the course of our one week stay at the hospital because by day 3, my sense of humor returned because the doctors were able to tell us it was the flu and that is what caused the two seizures and I no longer had to think about meningitis or God knows what else that went through my mind those couple of days. Ugh. Getting emotional again... And since I still haven't allowed myself a breakdown, I'm sure in the next couple of weeks I will finally end up in fetal position crying my eyes out. But until then, let's continue as we mean to go on: half sauced most evenings.
And without further delay, here are some things I observed, experienced and noted over the course of the week from hell.
Ambulance ride: After the paramedics loaded the Kid into the back with the Husband and I strapped in beside him, we took off. We were informed that we were heading to SMZ Ost. I nodded numbly and tried to keep it together. The paramedic sitting in the back who probably just celebrated that his voice finally broke decided that this would be the perfect time to strike up a conversation.
Child dressed as paramedic: Where are you from?
Me: Canada
Child dressed as paramedic: Oh! My friend lived in Quebec for two years!
The Husband: That's where you are from, Dear.
Me: No. No it isn't. (side eye)
The Husband: Ottawa! That's Quebec, isn't it?
Me: No and we are not going to have this conversation right now. But OH MY GOD!
Silence
Child dressed as paramedic: Where do you work? Are you an ambassador?
Me: (looking down at my outfit of hot pink sweat pants, green t-shirt and no bra, paired with Ugg boots and fancy winter coat. Restraining myself from sarcasm) No.
Child dressed as paramedic: So where do you work?
Me: Are we almost there?
Child dressed as paramedic: (obviously seeing wild hand gestures from the Husband sitting behind me to zip it) Not too much longer!
I feel bad for the guy and I know that he was just trying to make conversation to distract me but the last thing I wanted to do was chat. So if you are out there young, not shaving yet paramedic, I apologize for the looks of death I threw your way. And I also learned an important lesson to always, always, always wear a bra at home. ALWAYS!
Old world charm that ain't effing charming: Now I have nothing but amazing props to give to the staff at SMZ Ost. They were, for the most part, amazing. We had great care and thanks to private insurance, a private room with an extra bed, TV, free Internet and a mini bar. Holla! But there were a couple of things that made me say "Hold up!"
Like when they made me give the Kid a suppository when we first arrived and I was all like "But you have gloves on!!!", or when they asked him to stay still for 20 plus minutes so they could attach electrodes to his head. Yeah, there was spitting. But again, I was pretty pleased with how they dealt with his fevers and with the fact that I kept calling them every 30 minutes to take his temperature and didn't openly lecture me. By the 4th day they learned and left the thermometer with me... and I wielded it like a mighty sword every 15 minutes. That fever was not going to go above 38.5... not on my watch. Anyway, the thing that probably made me want to go "Oh, that's adorable but I just heard it is 2015!" was when the Kid developed a bad cough. They gave him some cough medicine (useless herbal crap in my humble opinion) and when it got worse, they brought in the big guns.... wait for it.... a wet sheet.
Gah. Why was I even surprised? They got a sheet wet, then hung it above the bed and then they left. I wanted to yell out "Where do you plug this thing in?!?!" but I was so incredibly confused. And the worst part? It kind of worked. Ugh. I'm bringing my own Vicks Electro Jungle Fever 2000 next time. How do you like dem humidities?!
The Serbian cleaning lady: Now the Husband and I are tennis fans. He is an awesome player. I am a player who plays for the cute outfits and drinks after. We haven't watched a lot in recent years but on Sunday was the Melbourne final with Djokovic and Murray playing and we thought "Meh, why not?" Into the first set, the hospital cleaning lady came in. She wasn't wearing the mask and plastic wrap that all visitors were expected to wear. She looked at the screen and exclaimed "Oh thank goodness! Finally somebody watching it!" She came closer and declared herself a Djokovic fan. She half heartedly wiped down a table and then pulled up a chair. The Husband and I exchanged glances and then we shrugged. The Kid was asleep and we just didn't have it in us to fight an intruder. She then told us a story:
My husband - he has high blood pressure because of Djokovic. A couple of years ago he watched a match and he won and my husband was so excited that his blood pressure topped 220/120 and since then he is on pills. And did you know that Djokovic donated 10 state of the art ambulances to the city of Belgrade?
He is our prince. He is our international ambassador.
If I make a lot of money, I will pay for Djokovic to shake my husband's hand. And then his blood pressure will go so high and then he will die and I will get his pension. AHAHAHAHA! Coffee?
So she stayed for another 20 minutes and I hovered over the Kid. She came back later in the match for updates but at least it made for an interesting Sunday morning. Well, interesting and slightly terrifying.
Judging parents when I shouldn't be: Now, nobody is in their right mind in a hospital... and this is especially true for parents. Your kid is in the hospital? You are going to be an emotional wreck. You are going to be upset, irrational, shouty, cry-y and every emotion you can imagine. You might do some dumb things but I was pretty surprised by one set of parents. I was walking back to the Kid's room when I spied a family in the seating area on the ward. A mom, a dad, a toddler and a baby wrapped in a blanket. An alarm was beeping loudly from an opened door. A nurse came towards the family and asked calmly but with concern: "Who unplugged the baby?". This immediately brought me to a halt and I pretended to check my messages on my phone. The father looked at the nurse and then pointed to his wife. I was like "DUDE! Really?" The nurse took a deep breath and asked "Why did you unplug the baby?" and he answered with a shrug and in broken German "We wanted to sit here." Meanwhile the machine continued to beep madly from their room and I saw that the parents had disconnected their child from the heart rate monitor. Now, the Kid had one of these on after his second seizure and I know that this is not something you simply detach and go about your day. There is a reason why your child is connected to a machine! Ugh. The nurse deserved a medal for being so calm and yet, I have to wonder how many times people "unplug" their kids? She didn't seem surprised. In fact, she seemed resigned. Now I understand why the head nurse, while signing us out, said "Thank you for being such great parents while you were here!" That made me scratch my head at first but now I realize; we didn't unplug our child so we already made the grade. I shouldn't judge but yet, who would unplug their BABY?!?
I am happy to report that the Kid's fever has been gone since Thursday. He still has a cough but his joie de vivre is back. We have also noticed a bit of a change in him; more eye contact and the fact that he is eating stuff off my plate which is a big thing! Yesterday he attempted to eat my very spicy stir fry and it was adorable. I'm hoping the spice helped his cough... if not, well, I guess I'll go find a bedsheet.
So I won't go into detail about the actual event because I just can't right now, but I did make some observations over the course of our one week stay at the hospital because by day 3, my sense of humor returned because the doctors were able to tell us it was the flu and that is what caused the two seizures and I no longer had to think about meningitis or God knows what else that went through my mind those couple of days. Ugh. Getting emotional again... And since I still haven't allowed myself a breakdown, I'm sure in the next couple of weeks I will finally end up in fetal position crying my eyes out. But until then, let's continue as we mean to go on: half sauced most evenings.
And without further delay, here are some things I observed, experienced and noted over the course of the week from hell.
Ambulance ride: After the paramedics loaded the Kid into the back with the Husband and I strapped in beside him, we took off. We were informed that we were heading to SMZ Ost. I nodded numbly and tried to keep it together. The paramedic sitting in the back who probably just celebrated that his voice finally broke decided that this would be the perfect time to strike up a conversation.
Child dressed as paramedic: Where are you from?
Me: Canada
Child dressed as paramedic: Oh! My friend lived in Quebec for two years!
The Husband: That's where you are from, Dear.
Me: No. No it isn't. (side eye)
The Husband: Ottawa! That's Quebec, isn't it?
Me: No and we are not going to have this conversation right now. But OH MY GOD!
Silence
Child dressed as paramedic: Where do you work? Are you an ambassador?
Me: (looking down at my outfit of hot pink sweat pants, green t-shirt and no bra, paired with Ugg boots and fancy winter coat. Restraining myself from sarcasm) No.
Child dressed as paramedic: So where do you work?
Me: Are we almost there?
Child dressed as paramedic: (obviously seeing wild hand gestures from the Husband sitting behind me to zip it) Not too much longer!
I feel bad for the guy and I know that he was just trying to make conversation to distract me but the last thing I wanted to do was chat. So if you are out there young, not shaving yet paramedic, I apologize for the looks of death I threw your way. And I also learned an important lesson to always, always, always wear a bra at home. ALWAYS!
Old world charm that ain't effing charming: Now I have nothing but amazing props to give to the staff at SMZ Ost. They were, for the most part, amazing. We had great care and thanks to private insurance, a private room with an extra bed, TV, free Internet and a mini bar. Holla! But there were a couple of things that made me say "Hold up!"
Like when they made me give the Kid a suppository when we first arrived and I was all like "But you have gloves on!!!", or when they asked him to stay still for 20 plus minutes so they could attach electrodes to his head. Yeah, there was spitting. But again, I was pretty pleased with how they dealt with his fevers and with the fact that I kept calling them every 30 minutes to take his temperature and didn't openly lecture me. By the 4th day they learned and left the thermometer with me... and I wielded it like a mighty sword every 15 minutes. That fever was not going to go above 38.5... not on my watch. Anyway, the thing that probably made me want to go "Oh, that's adorable but I just heard it is 2015!" was when the Kid developed a bad cough. They gave him some cough medicine (useless herbal crap in my humble opinion) and when it got worse, they brought in the big guns.... wait for it.... a wet sheet.
Gah. Why was I even surprised? They got a sheet wet, then hung it above the bed and then they left. I wanted to yell out "Where do you plug this thing in?!?!" but I was so incredibly confused. And the worst part? It kind of worked. Ugh. I'm bringing my own Vicks Electro Jungle Fever 2000 next time. How do you like dem humidities?!
The Serbian cleaning lady: Now the Husband and I are tennis fans. He is an awesome player. I am a player who plays for the cute outfits and drinks after. We haven't watched a lot in recent years but on Sunday was the Melbourne final with Djokovic and Murray playing and we thought "Meh, why not?" Into the first set, the hospital cleaning lady came in. She wasn't wearing the mask and plastic wrap that all visitors were expected to wear. She looked at the screen and exclaimed "Oh thank goodness! Finally somebody watching it!" She came closer and declared herself a Djokovic fan. She half heartedly wiped down a table and then pulled up a chair. The Husband and I exchanged glances and then we shrugged. The Kid was asleep and we just didn't have it in us to fight an intruder. She then told us a story:
My husband - he has high blood pressure because of Djokovic. A couple of years ago he watched a match and he won and my husband was so excited that his blood pressure topped 220/120 and since then he is on pills. And did you know that Djokovic donated 10 state of the art ambulances to the city of Belgrade?
He is our prince. He is our international ambassador.
If I make a lot of money, I will pay for Djokovic to shake my husband's hand. And then his blood pressure will go so high and then he will die and I will get his pension. AHAHAHAHA! Coffee?
So she stayed for another 20 minutes and I hovered over the Kid. She came back later in the match for updates but at least it made for an interesting Sunday morning. Well, interesting and slightly terrifying.
Judging parents when I shouldn't be: Now, nobody is in their right mind in a hospital... and this is especially true for parents. Your kid is in the hospital? You are going to be an emotional wreck. You are going to be upset, irrational, shouty, cry-y and every emotion you can imagine. You might do some dumb things but I was pretty surprised by one set of parents. I was walking back to the Kid's room when I spied a family in the seating area on the ward. A mom, a dad, a toddler and a baby wrapped in a blanket. An alarm was beeping loudly from an opened door. A nurse came towards the family and asked calmly but with concern: "Who unplugged the baby?". This immediately brought me to a halt and I pretended to check my messages on my phone. The father looked at the nurse and then pointed to his wife. I was like "DUDE! Really?" The nurse took a deep breath and asked "Why did you unplug the baby?" and he answered with a shrug and in broken German "We wanted to sit here." Meanwhile the machine continued to beep madly from their room and I saw that the parents had disconnected their child from the heart rate monitor. Now, the Kid had one of these on after his second seizure and I know that this is not something you simply detach and go about your day. There is a reason why your child is connected to a machine! Ugh. The nurse deserved a medal for being so calm and yet, I have to wonder how many times people "unplug" their kids? She didn't seem surprised. In fact, she seemed resigned. Now I understand why the head nurse, while signing us out, said "Thank you for being such great parents while you were here!" That made me scratch my head at first but now I realize; we didn't unplug our child so we already made the grade. I shouldn't judge but yet, who would unplug their BABY?!?
I am happy to report that the Kid's fever has been gone since Thursday. He still has a cough but his joie de vivre is back. We have also noticed a bit of a change in him; more eye contact and the fact that he is eating stuff off my plate which is a big thing! Yesterday he attempted to eat my very spicy stir fry and it was adorable. I'm hoping the spice helped his cough... if not, well, I guess I'll go find a bedsheet.
Comments
Post a Comment