My least favorite ‘baby’s first’

NOTE: The following blog entry contains images that have been known to make grandmas cry.

Let's start this one by explaining that Patrick and I had both been sick with what seemed like a never-ending cold. On Friday the 11th, I was finally tired of feeling awful and took my lunch hour to head to the prompt care. While there, I was diagnosed with a sinus and throat infection and sent away with a prescription.

Knowing that I had more than just a cold, I became more concerned that Patrick wasn’t improving. I called the pediatrician and was told that unless Patrick started refusing food or started wheezing, not to worry. Naturally, later that evening, Patrick started wheezing. Not good. I then checked his daycare sheet and noticed that he had hardly eaten all day. When he continued to refuse his bottle, we decided it was better to be safe than sorry and headed to the prompt care.

At prompt care the nurse started taking Patrick’s vitals. Naturally, getting an o2 reading on an infant is difficult, and they were using an adult sized meter, so she wasn’t too surprised when the reading was very low. They took us back to the examining room, she headed off to find an infant sized finger thingy (medical term) and grabbed another nurse to help her. He came in and assisted, but no matter what they did, they kept getting what would be considered extremely low readings.

Next thing we know, we have the doctor in the room. Although Patrick’s lungs sounded clear, there was apparently some retraction on one side, which concerned the doctor enough to grab the nebulizer. Patrick was NOT a fan.

GET THIS THING OFF OF ME!

However, while he screamed his o2 level went up to 100% (where it should be!) which let them know that the low readings they were getting were accurate. The doc informed us that in children Patrick’s age, a reading lower than 96% (which he was well below) is an automatic trip to the ER with oxygen en route. The next thing we know, Patrick and I are riding in the back of an ambulance with Daddy is following close behind in the car.

Getting into the ambulance. (The female EMT had a crush on Patrick. The feeling was mutual!)

The nice EMT gave him medical supplies to play with.

Thus began a few maddening hours of mostly waiting. Patrick had some blood drawn and an RSV test, a number of breathing treatments and also had a chest x-ray. He was also given some medicine that his little tummy couldn't tolerate - the poor little dude vomited the nasty smelling stuff right down the front of mommy's shirt.

(Side note – perhaps this makes me a terrible mother, but seeing a 6-month old get a chest x-ray ranks among the funniest things I’ve ever seen. The put my poor son on a little saddle-like thing, lifted his arms, and secured clear plastic braces around him. Ryan figured out right away what it looked like – he looked as if he was trapped in a 2-liter bottle of soda.)

Mostly though, we waited.

Waiting...the meter on his toe lasted until he figured he could get it off by wiggling his toes

When this rough, exhausting, worrisome night was over, all we knew was that his lungs were clear, he was RSV free, flu free, and pretty darn patient!! We left with a couple of prescriptions to help with the breathing, orders to follow up with the pediatrician, and a really cool stuffed pterodactyl that one of the nurses gave him after he had his blood drawn. (Ryan has nicknamed it Pterry, but his full legal name is “The Most Expensive Stuffed Animal We’ve Ever Purchased”)

I have to pause here to give the EMTs a huge Thank You! They were so wonderful with Patrick - and with his very nervous mother - that they made what could have been a terrifying ride in an ambulance an amusing memory (even stopping to pose for a photo, as you can see!). They were so reassuring and kind, and even stopped by hours later as they dropped someone else off to check on our little guy. Such nice people!

The rest of the weekend was significantly more pleasant. Saturday, Grandma Trish came over to babysit Patrick while Papa, Ryan and I moved stuff out of the old house. Then on Sunday, we joined Grandma Trish and Papa, Elizabeth, Annabelle, Mike, Michael Aaron and Madison and headed to Chili’s for another (and final [for this year]) birthday celebration. Since we were missing the birthday hat, we all donned Christmas hats instead, even Patrick!

Aren't we a handsome group?

With all that over, we are free to get on with Christmas, right? I promise, next post will be illness free!!!