Sunday, March 3, 2013
I noticed the daffodils starting to bloom about two weeks ago, and I thought to myself, "it's about damn time." Daffodils in bloom surely mean that Spring is on its way. It's not just that I hate cold weather and that I sure could use a little sun on my pasty-white legs. Frankly, this winter has been a bitch for the WBs.
From mid-November until the day I noticed the flowers sprouting up toward the sun the WBs had endured, in no particular order:
8 cases of strep throat (1 for me, 3 for A-Train, and 4 for Big D)
1 case of croup (Mr Butler)
1 ER visit (Mr Butler)
3 trips to Urgent Care (1 for A-Train, 2 for me)
1 fight with our pediatrician's on-call nurse (by me, about Big D)
1 fever of 105.3 (Big D)
2 types of allergy testing for 2 kids (blood and skin- for A-Train and Big D, respectively)
1 trip to the ENT for bizarro ear pain (me)
1 trip to the ENT for a surgery consult (Big D)
1 trip to a pediatric GI (A-Train)
various and sundry coughs, colds, runny noses, sore throats
enough antibiotics to fell a whole family of horses
So when I saw those lemon-colored blossoms, I knew that the end of illness season was upon us. Just knew it. Sure, we'd have to endure some seasonal allergies and probably a few of the kind of bumps and bruises that come with outdoor warm-weather fun, but the worst was surely behind us as we headed into last Thursday.
That's the day that Cap'n, slowly recovering from the cold we've all been sharing for the past four months, coughed himself into unconsciousness. Yep, you read that right. Apparently, it happens all.the.damn.time. At least that's what the lovely doctor in the ER (you know the ER they took him to in the ambulance after I called 911 because the man was unconscious on the couch) told us.
She told us that after Cap'n had been there overnight, had a chest X-ray, submitted to three rounds of bloodwork, been threatened with a stress test, had I-don't-even-know-how-many EKGs, and been poked and prodded by a whole slew of people. Oh, and it was definitely after they had come to his "room" in the ER to get my credit card. (So, here's a head's up, if you're going to the Duke ER, even by ambulance, don't forget your purse!)
And that wasn't it for the evening. When I finally came home late that night, Mr Butler was rocking a temp of 105.3. Two weeks ago, when Big D had that temp, I was out of my mind with worry. Having had one kid survive that fever, I was much less worried about Mr Butler, but good god, can't a girl catch a break?
I am happy to announce that Cap'n is home and fine and well-medicated. And thank FSM for good health insurance. Mr Butler is also nearly recovered. I'm also thrilled that I have such awesome friends and relatives (the two Melissas and my dear sister, Laura) to look after my kids during this whole ordeal!
And, appropos of nothing at all, I'd like to thank the roll of the genetic dice for giving me The Incredible Hulk as a son. Here's what he did during his "nap" today.
Sometimes all you can do is laugh to keep the tears away.