Rainy Days Aren't
Good Days
For Ice Cream

Ethan has been sick for about two weeks. He's had the typical daycare crud; runny nose, cough, glassy eyes i.e. a cold. It began to clear and he had just a remaining cough, until two days ago when the nose started again with thick, green snot - and LOTS of it. His cough was worse and his fever spiked to 103. No big deal, I gave him a suppository for the fever and sat up with him in the recliner all night. Of course, it did require a call to the on-call nurse who listened to him over the phone, said to use the cool mist humidifier and see the doctor in the morning. I dragged at work the next day but hey, that's what happens when you're a mom sometimes.

He was off to the doctor yesterday afternoon. We got the typical song and dance that it was a virus, give him lots of fluids, keep the fever under control, lots of rest and he will be fine. I was exhausted from the lack of sleep the night before and tried to prepare him for a good night's rest. I give him a bath in vapor bath, slathered him up with Vick's, put on cool, loose fitting pj's, treated his fever with a suppository and went to the recliner to rock.

Fast forward to 1:00am. His breathing was worse and he is screaming. With each breath I could see the outline of his ribs - "OMG, chest pulling." I counted his respiration's - 66 - that's high. His pulse was racing. A green goo was starting to seep from his eyes. Ok, that's it, we have to go to the emergency room! (Of course, these types of runs can ONLY be in the middle of the night.)

We rush around, I throw on the clothes I had from the day before and pull my hair up in a dishevelled pony tail. The dreaded middle of the night phone call to my mother-in-law, who was more than willing to come and sit with the other two kids while we take Mr. Snotty to the hospital. I toss a few diapers in the diaper bag, that emergency can of pre-made formula and a bottle and a few spare changes of clothes. Ok, we are ready!

My mother-in-law arrived within minutes of our call - yes - grandmother's CAN and ARE faster than any 911 responder! While I'm walking with Ethan to the car I walk through a spiderweb which has a GIANT (anything larger than a quarter is GIANT) spider. I screamed. Ethan startled. Nick looked at me like I was a fruitcake and said he couldn't even see the spider.

We make it to the hospital and are welcomed by the valet guy telling us he is going to just leave our vehicle where it is until we are sure we want to stay.

"Busy night?" I questioned.

The reply was an unrecognizable grunt like sound.

We walk through security and it was the first time the metal detector didn't go off! We didn't have to have the manual "wanding" - woohoo! Through triage we go and the typical work up is done. His vitals were a little off - which I knew - which is why we were there.

"Ok, good. I made the right decision to bring him," I thought.

The nurses make some comments about the green ooze coming from Mr. Snotty's nose and choose to swab it and we are asked to wait in the waiting room.

There was very little room but we managed to find two seats smack dab in the middle. Obviously it's been a busy night, face masks, towels, spilled drinks and trash all pepper the floor. It's now a little after 2am. One woman, we will call "show, show" because her clothing is so tight, and her child is pulling it on so many different directions, most of her should be covered body is showing, is walking around trying to encourage other families with children to leave. "I've been here three hours already," she says. "There are probably five people in front of me."

I just shrugged my shoulders at "show, show" and made small talk.

Ethan, however, has decided the ER waiting room is the greatest place in the world. He is watching anyone and everyone. Several individuals even deserved a wave from the little guy. He was full of smiles, full of spark. The thought begins to cross my mind that we really don't need to be there.

A man and two women walk in. They are talking very loudly about a girl that was being brought in that had been shot in both legs. I wanted to tell "show, show" that it looks like there are now six in front of her - but refrained.

We sat on the world's most uncomfortable chairs for hours. The time felt like it was doubled because the poor boy sitting across from us, just a little older than Ethan, had bitten through his tongue and was screaming nearly our entire wait. Poor little guy.

"Wow, my leg feels warm," I thought as a warm sensation moved across my thigh like water, WATER! I look down and a huge wet spot is on my jeans. Apparently Ethan's diaper did not get put back on just right after his temperature was taken and now I'm in pee jeans. Ok, whatever, I take him to the bathroom to change his pants.

We get back and Mr. Snotty is energized and ready to go. He realizes that every noise he makes echos and makes it a game. His game involves a quick screech, listening to the echo, giggling and then doing it again. This baby isn't sick enough to be here. This baby is acting normal. He continues with his game until every one of the sleeping, sick children are awake, fussing and their parents are glaring at me.

Yes, because it's easy to control an 11 month old when they are making noise. Let me just get the ball gag out. . .*rolls eyes*

We decide that our wait has been long enough, Ethan is obviously fine and check out at the triage desk where his vitals were back to normal. We went home. Ethan slept well the rest of the night.