recovery

I ended up calling our pediatrician and taking Logan to the ER late yesterday afternoon. He had been throwing up for 9 hours every 20 minutes and couldn't even keep a teaspoon of water down. When he cried, he had no tears and that worried me. I didn't want him to continue throwing up and getting more dehydrated throughout the night. A good friend and neighbor watched Dylan until Andrew could get home, and Logan and I zoomed off to the hospital.

I was fully expecting to encounter a waiting room full of sick kids. Our hospital has a nice new pediatric ER and I just knew it would be full of kids. I didn't know how long we'd have to wait, so before we left the house I threw a bunch of supplies in the car - extra clothes, Matchbox cars, towels, books... But when we arrived and signed in, they had an empty room and they put us back right away.

Logan was completely lethargic and pale and just laid in bed, still, watching Curious George, while they ran various tests and took X-Rays to rule out pneumonia. The ended up giving him Zofran to stop the vomiting, and tested its success later by giving him juice and a turkey sandwich. If he kept it down, we'd be released. If he didn't, they'd give him an I.V. and start fluids. We had a 50/50 chance.

The Zofran worked almost immediately. It was like watching a deflated punching bag lying limp on the ground rapidly fill with air and stand up. And then start flying around the room like a firefly on a sugar buzz. He drank three apple juices, and ate all the bread of the sandwich.

And then he became Corn Julio.

They wanted to give him an hour and a half and make sure he didn't throw up again. Which was plenty of time for him to explore every crevice of the 8 x 10 room, push every button, play with the automatic faucet on the sink, figure out how to elevate the hospital bed, and lick every single flat surface in the entire room including the chair arms, the sliding glass door and the sink counter. So it will be a small miracle if he didn't infect himself with another Plague of some sort. They said there might be a wave of diarrhea before this whole thing is over. Fun! At least he's still in diapers and we can contain that, unlike the projectile vomitorium all over the house yesterday.

They released us at 7 p.m. and he blew kisses to all of the nurses and slapped the doc a high five. He's a charmer. Today, he's already eaten a pear, some cereal, a fruit smoothie and painted three pictures, played Hungry Hippos, helped me unload the dishwasher, blew bubbles and terrorized the dog.

Yep, I'd say he's back to himself.