A weekend of sickness

It all started last week.  Wednesday, to be exact.  We FINALLY had a snow day.  The first real, legitimate snowfall since Nick was born.  His first time seeing a true accumulation, and being big enough to play in it.

On Wednesday morning, Nick woke up happy and cheerful -- possibly because he wasn't being jarred awake by the shrill "good morning!" I'm usually singing out while simultaneously ripping him from the comfort of his warm bed and jamming him into some clothes far less comfortable than his footie pj's, and forcing him to brush his teeth while still wiping the sleepies from his eyes.  Nope - Wednesday morning was a snow day.  The government was closed, and daddy got to stay home with us.  So we all took our time getting up -- watched a little Dora in bed -- lazily ate our breakfast while playing in the living room.  I could hear that Nick was sounding a bit congested, but I chose to ignore it, and blame it on the change in air-pressure.

By 10am, we were ready to go outside and play in the snow.   We bundled Nick up (which might as well have been performing water-torture on him, as he whined through the entire layering process), and plopped him outside in the snow, armed with all of our cameras to make sure we well-documented the entire ordeal.

Nick L-O-V-E-D the snow.  He loved watching the neighborhood kids build snowmen and igloos and use their giant snow shovels.  He was excited when they let him borrow their saucer and daddy pushed him (every so gently) down the hill on a sled.  And he cried and protested when it was time to come back in - the redness of his nose & cheeks, combined with the numbness of his fingers & toes, was no match for the fun he was having in the snow.

Fortunately we were able to convince him that the warmth of being inside the house, combined with a few episodes of "Little Einsteins" was just as appealing as being outside.  He ate a good lunch, and then promptly took a good nap.

BUT.  When he woke up from his nap?  He was scalding hot.  I took his temperature at least 27 times, and continuously got a reading between 101.6 - 102.2.  I gave him a dose of Motrin to try and bring it down, and thanked my lucky stars that a)our pediatrician's office was still open in the snow storm and b)we already had Nick's two year well check scheduled for that evening.

At 4pm, we ventured off to the doctor.  By the time we got there, Nick was happy and playing again, and when they took his temp, it was down to 99.0.  The doctor said his ears, throat and lungs all looked and sounded good, but that he had a lot of congestion in his nose and was probably getting a cold.

By Thursday, Nick's fever was still high.  I couldn't take him to daycare with a high fever, so I had to resort to keeping him home.  I had an important conference call that afternoon and a lot of work to catch up on seeing as I sort of took the day off for the snow day, so mom sweetly agreed to take Nick for a few hours so I could work.  I took him to her house, and went back home to work.  When I picked him up that afternoon, she said he didn't want to eat any lunch, and woke up pretty cranky from his nap.  He still felt warm.

On Friday, his fever seemed to have dissipated.  I had a big work meeting downtown that I had to go to, and no other choice but to take Nick to daycare.  He seemed well enough, so off he went.  But at 2:30pm, the babysitter called to tell me he woke up from his nap very upset, wouldn't stop crying, and felt very warm.  I told her I'd be there ASAP, hopped in the car, called the peds office, and made an appointment for 5pm.

Nick looked sick when I picked him up, and I knew he at least had a very bad cold.  But the fact that he had a fever for a few days, that he couldn't seem to shake - considering he had never had much of a fever at all before - was leading me to believe there was something more going on.  We got to the doctor's office and Nick immediately started crying.  I'm pretty sure he's finally figured out that the doctor's office isn't all fun games & toys in the waiting area...it usually ends in either having a stick shoved down your throat, or a needle jabbed in your arm.

No sooner did the doctor come back into our room and look in Nick's ears did she exclaim "oh, he's definitely got a bad ear infection - in both ears".  Poor baby.  After looking in his throat, Nick couldn't stop crying and worked himself up so much that he vomited all over his shirt.  I had to take off his shirt and take him home in just his jacket.  But not without stopping at CVS to pick up his amoxicillin first!

We went to CVS and shopped for about 45 minutes while the prescription came through the computer and then got mixed up.  My first clue that Nick felt like absolute crud?  He didn't protest when I put him in the stroller, waved my phone away when I offered it to him to play with, and promptly passed out (sitting upright!) within 5 minutes of being in CVS. 

He somehow managed to sleep really well that night, which could only be attested to the fact that being sick really takes it out of you.

We spent the rest of the weekend hiding out on the couch, playing cars, watching Dora and Little Einstein's and Mickey Mouse, and eating nothing but yogurt melts.  By Sunday afternoon, Nick really seemed to be on the mend.  So Sunday around 5pm, I loaded him into the car with me to go grab us McDonald's for dinner.  I was certain he would want to eat some salty french fries and chicken nuggets (don't judge - when your kid hasn't eaten in days, you'll try anything).  He actually did eat more than I expected, but about 20 minutes after we finished dinner, I started to feel like crap.

And then it happened.  Everything started coming out.  Of both ends.  Pure hell.  From about 6pm - midnight, I couldn't control what was coming out of me.  I proceeded to spend the next 36 hours in bed.  My back ached so bad, all of my muscles were sore, and my head was throbbing so hard that at one point I was pretty sure I could hear the headboard to our bed pounding in rhythm with my head.  I was completely miserable. 

Todd was a Godsend.  He went into work on Monday morning at 4am so he could get some things done and get back home before Nick and I were even out of bed.  He got Nick up and dressed and took him to daycare.  He came home with Gatorade for me and continuously checked on me all day.  He picked Nick up from daycare and played with him, fed him dinner, gave him a bath, and then held and rocked him to sleep when he wouldn't go to bed.  It was killing me because I have done Nick's bedtime routine for the last who-knows-how-many months, and I was pretty sure Nick was protesting bedtime because he didn't understand why mommy wasn't spending time with him.  Heartbreaking.

But this morning, I'm feeling better.  Nick seems better.  And we're all seemingly on the mend. I took Nick to daycare, which took every ounce of energy I could muster, but we made it.  And I've since had a little to eat and drink and am starting to feel less weak.  My headache is almost completely gone and I have no more nausea, thank goodness.

Todd called to check on me and when I told him I was trying to clean up a bit he said "I'm sorry...that's what happens when mom's out of commission!"  Then he said "please don't do too much...keep resting."  I married a good one, that's for sure.  I'm not sure how I would've survived the past 36 hours without him. 

Now all that's left is to keep my fingers crossed that neither Nick or Todd come down with whatever stomach virus I had...well that, and to Lysol the crap out of all of our toilets!