Out of the mouths of babes

"Andy, why did you say that? It's not nice to say, 'Mommy, get away from me.''
"I don't know. I think it was germs. Some strange germs got in my mouth and made me say that."

Pictures

Andy and Marc in the pool on the fourth. It has been remarkably coolish here so they were the only ones brave enough to get in the pool. I love the artistic water shot Bjorn got.
Meg and Lauren eating outside while we prepared fireworks. I posted this picture because this expression she has in the photo reminds me of someone in the family, but I can't quite place it.

I love the fun that can come from something as simple as a diaper box. Here the kids are in Andy's "boat." He is at a stage where his imagination is really taking off. He turns all sorts of every day items into his imaginary playthings. I love it.

Andy was so tired from school last week he went to "rest" on our bed and fell asleep half-way off. I was tickled by the picture and by the way his hair fell.

Follow up appointment or how long does it take for a toddler to pee in a bag?

We had a follow up appointment for Meg this morning. Our doctor's office has Saturday walk-in hours for sick only (i.e. no appointments), but he wanted her to come in to check her urine to see if the infection was gone. Despite improvements since Wednesday, she still hasn't been herself the last few days. Thursday she was still pretty fussy throughout the day and very tired with a fever. Even on Friday she slept until 10:15 (unheard of!) and was only up for about two hours before she needed a nap. I did call the doctor to ask if that was okay. Granted, she was better -- lower fever, no vomiting, eating and normal bowel movements, but she still wasn't herself. He said that sick as she'd been, it was going to take a while to improve and so long as she was making eye contact and walking normally, she was progressing okay. I must say I appreciated Dr. Murphys' calm reassurances. He has not normally been my favorite, what with calling me "mom" all the time (which everyone at the ER did, too -- must be an industry standard), but he's been great through this.

Anyway, we went in today. Meg was perkier and generally happier, especially after a breakfast that included chocolate chip cupcakes that I baked to bring to the doctor's office (I am nothing but a suck-up). She was playing nicely in the waiting room until we went back and Dr. Murphy laid her down to attach the plastic pee bag. Poor thing, her legs were shaking as she clearly remembered how it went the last time a doctor laid her out. She was also shaking when the nurse came to draw blood from her toe (and she cried and was MAD about it). Now I just needed to wait for her to pee in the bag. Which took two hours, despite my plying her with nine ounces of Pedialyte in a baby bottle.

The good news, her white blood cell count is down to 30,000 from 40,000 on Wednesday. That means the antibiotics are working and the infection is working its way out. Now we wait until tomorrow to see if bacteria grows in the urine sample.

The theory is that last week when she had diarrhea, that a little bit of the poop made its way where it shouldn't causing the bladder/urinary tract infection (despite being different pieces of anatomy, the diagnoses are interchangeable). The cold she has is just a secondary infection. We will go back in about two weeks to check her urine when she's allegedly healthy to see if there is an infection. If she's clear, that's all fine, but if she's got an infection, it may be a sign that she's got an anatomical problem that would warrant more testing.

In all of this, Bjorn says, "Hey, have you seen the big cat? I haven't seen her since last night. The little cat came in the morning, but I haven't seen Coltrane." So with all this, we're casing the streets looking for a cat. Andy doesn't care since he's already decided he wants a black kitten. Fortunately, as my hope is waning she comes trotting up the driveway, seemingly healthy and covered in grass like she's been hiding in some one's yard. Phew. I wasn't sure how much more drama I needed this week.

Our first real trip to the ER

Little Miss Margaret got her first trip to the ER tonight. After another hitting the Wednesday mark with no improvement since Monday, we went back to the pediatrician who ran some blood work, another strep test, a urine test and whatever other tests. He couldn't find anything except that her white blood cell count was 40,000. Apparently that's really high. Normal is like 12,000. That was the sign that some bacteria was amiss in her system. He suspected it might be pneumonia and he gently said we'd have to go to the emergency room for better blood work and chest X-rays. Meg was fussy at the news (well, all day for a week, really) and I teared up even.

I headed over to Fairfax hospital next to my office and had the good sense to call an office friend to meet me. Bjorn was in Richmond for the day so I called Jennifer to pick up Andy who coordinated with Mark to babysit.

The whole event was pretty awful and tear-wrenching (for me as well) as they poked and prodded a kid who obviously didn't feel well. The X-rays were uncomfortable, but not so bad. What sucked was the catheter for the urine sample. What sucked worse was them looking for a vein and then getting the IV into her little right hand and covering it up with a strange little collar. They finally came back after probably four hours with a diagnosis of a urinary tract infection. She got some IV antibiotics and a script for omnicef and a follow-up with her doctor.

Fortunately, by the end, she had perked up with some IV fluids, Motrin and cuddles with Daddy. She was really tired, but not as sad and mopey (and dehydrated) as before.

As for me, I'm exhausted and going to bed.

Neurotic mess

Can someone explain to me why I am more neurotic with the second kid than the first? Doesn't that defy normal logic? Both are (relatively) healthy, beautiful kids. Both so far are following all the normal milestone progression. So why is it when she gets something I totally freak out?

Case in point, Meg has a fever. A high one, clocking in at 104 today. It started with her diarrhea/barfing adventure on Tuesday and Wednesday. Thursday she was a little warm and by Friday (when I left to go out of town), she went up to 102 and tracked off and on like that all weekend. I got home last night and she was seeming better, but she didn't eat much and had a rough night, waking up 2-3 times and still had a fever in the morning. I took her to the doctor this morning. Fortunately, no strep and no ear infection, but she does have a sore throat and a fever. Apparently a virus is going around that lasts about three to five days and the recommendation was to keep her hydrated and medicate the fever as necessary.

Ayesha kindly offered to watch her for a few hours while I "took rest" as she calls it since I worked all weekend and didn't sleep much while I was away only to be up a lot of last night. I rested and then went to pick her up about four after a few hours. As Andy and I arrived, Meg had just thrown up her snack and was incredibly listless. It was freaking me out to see her so limp and hot, alternating with chills, not to mention clingy and just sort of out it. I tried to give her some Tylenol, and after about five minutes, she threw that up, too. Ayesha asked if we should go to the emergency room with her fever so high, which sort of freaked me out, too. I called the doctor and left a detailed message. After about 30 minutes, I called back (now armed with the 104 temperature news) and she seemed somewhat annoyed to be forced by her receptionist to take my call.

"I imagine with a fever that high she would be miserable and achey. You should get some Tylenol suppositories, which sell under the name Feverall. They might be behind the counter. For her weight, give her 160 mg. Give her comfort foods, Pedialyte and white grape juice in small quantities. The fever may get worse overnight and be better in the morning for a couple more days." She earlier to come back Wednesday if it's not better.

Fortunately, the last dose of Tylenol I gave her before I got the Feverall stayed down as did the Motrin I gave her about an hour later bringing her temp down to 99.8. She even was hungry for what Andy was having for dinner and drank some Pedialyte. I am hopeful I can consistently work to keep her temperature down until this works its way through.

So why does this freak me out so? Was I just too naive the first time around? Do I just know now that I can bug the doctor when I have a question rather than be a martyr and wait? Am I just more impatient now and I want an answer/treatment now? Is it that two pregnancies have made my pregnancy brain permanent?

In other news, Andy keeps singing, "Who let the dogs in? Who, who, who?"