the end to a very long 48 hours

ugh

Tuesday night, Hannah banana did OK with her pain. She was fully medicated, got some applesauce down and slept most of the night. Wednesday, Larry stayed home with her while I went to work and then the managers meeting.

About two, he called me. Her stomach is upset. Make sure she eats before you give her the pain meds, they will make her sick. By this point, it was too late. Her stomach was at the "I know if I eat I will feel better, but I can't bring myself to eat anything because my stomach hurts so bad" phase.

I walk in the door at five and she is throwing up. We try to get mashed potatoes down her, she throws it up, we try to get pudding down her, she throws it up. We get nausea medicine called in, she throws it up.

I take her tempature as she feels very, very warm, 104. Whip on some clothes, scoop her up and race to the ER. A 104 temp with throwing up after surgery, there's something wrong.

We get to the ER and it is packed. They triage her, nurse says she will get a bed asap for her. They do. She is stripped down to a gown, blood is drawn from each arm, an IV is started, antibiotics, nausea and morphine.

Morphine? OH MY GAWD, I'm totally loosing it. I thought watching her in recovery was bad, this was a million times worse. Her cheeks blazing red, her lips dry as a chip, her body shaking from the fever chills and her heart racing. Nervous breakdown, party of one.

I truly believe there is a reason for the night shift. They (not all mind you health care readers) are not all the sharpest tools in the box. After they have loaded up with morphine and the nausea medicine (which also makes her sleepy) they decide they need a urine sample.

Now, Hannah is one of the most prudest people I have ever met. Bedpan? HELL NO! She insist on being wheeled into the bathroom, IV in tow. Then wants me to get out. Ummmm, banana, you are so loaded you may flush yourself, I'm staying.

They get the sample and she goes back to sleep. Pain meds on board, no more throwing up, but her fever is still there. Nurse? Her fever is 104. Really? YES! I'll have to get some tylenol for her. Since she was throwing up and there is no IV ready tylenol, guess where it had to go?

"Hannah, I need you to turn over on your side" the nurse says. Loaded, she turns over, she has no idea what is coming and the screaming "NOOOOOOO WHAT ARE YOU DOING" only proved it more.

Larry had gone home with my sister to shower and bring the other car up. I am there alone with her, helpless, watching her suffer. I would go through 100 natural labors to keep her from that. Larry finally gets back around 11:30.

We are supposed to be waiting for a room. Her fever is lowering, slowly, very slowly. More bags for the IV, more pain meds, no throwing up. 1am, no room. 2am, no room. I decide to try and go and try to sleep in the tahoe for awhile. Not a breeze in sight, not even the spider webs are blowing. Then mosquito's. Back inside.

I ask one of the nurses, are there any rooms yet? Her reply, "You mean you can't believe there are no open rooms?" WHOA, back off bitch. Don't ever, I mean ever pull that crap on a mom with a sick kid in the emergency room. OK, do you THINK you can find some more comfortable seating? "I'll get the floor nurse, I have work to do" Motherf*cker -- Yes, Rick heard about it this morning, her contract will not be renewed.

Somehow, we get to 7am. We took turns sleeping on the floor, the chairs, the car. Her doctor comes in, there is no explanation for her fever. She is hydrated, her throat is moist, looking good. He decides it was a delayed reaction to the anesthesia. See if she can take the liquid meds on her own, if she doesn't throw up she can go home.

That takes two hours to get. I call Monica, you will need to go in two hours early, I have four hours of overtime to give, use it. I call Clint, no way can I close tonight. I'll come in at one, you leave till five, come back and close. Clint rocks my world.

Larry brings her home, she takes a shower, eats a little, sleeps a lot. When I come home tonight, she is coming downstairs. Her hair is clean, she is smiling and looks a million times better. She is eating tuna as we speak.

I am going to lay in the bed and die a little tonight.

I haven't even begun to tell you about work .......