Phone calls from mom are never good
Jan. 31st, 2015 10:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
trickykittyActually, in this case, it was me walking into my parents' home with no one home, which is unusual for a Saturday.
My eldest nephew had to have an emergency appendectomy today.
I called mom to find out where everyone was, and she told me they were at the children's emergency clinic nearby. He'd been throwing up two days in a row and was running a fever. I met them up there and took Little Bit home while mom and eldest stayed to see a doctor.
Next call was them hooking him up to antibiotics IV while waiting for a sonogram specialist to come in from home.
Next call was them waiting for the ambulance to rush him to the children's hospital where they could perform surgery. Dad got home, got the news, and went up there to meet them.
Mom and dad stopped by the house to pick up some things - mom was planning to take the first night staying with him at the hospital.
Next call, into surgery.
Next call, out of surgery and sleeping.
I know it's common for his age and that it's a common surgery, but that doesn't make the absolute dread that comes with every ring of the phone any less heart stopping as the news gets worse and worse.
It still burst somewhat, so they have to keep him the next 48 hours minimum for monitoring until they can get his temperature down and he can handle solids again.
I'm still a nervous wreck wondering if the phone is going to ring again.
All the doctors and nurses said he was "brave," because a child in his condition would normally be writhing in pain, but he was just a bored preteen annoyed that he couldn't be at home playing on his Xbox. It reminded me of when I had to start CPR on him when he was about 2 years old because he stopped breathing and his face was turning blue when his temp spiked from having walking pneumonia. By the time the ambulance arrived, he was happy and playing, and aside from the constant temp he was running, you'd never have known he was sick at all, let alone that he just had a small seizure and stopped breathing.
I kept Little Bit occupied with watching many hours of Doctor Who episodes that he didn't watch with us a few weeks ago. He had his own boredom and "look at me" moments, feigning a really sore foot injury and walking around the house with crutches of all things. Oh, woe is him.
Boys.
I think I'm going to go have a crying fit now from the stress and then pass out.
My eldest nephew had to have an emergency appendectomy today.
I called mom to find out where everyone was, and she told me they were at the children's emergency clinic nearby. He'd been throwing up two days in a row and was running a fever. I met them up there and took Little Bit home while mom and eldest stayed to see a doctor.
Next call was them hooking him up to antibiotics IV while waiting for a sonogram specialist to come in from home.
Next call was them waiting for the ambulance to rush him to the children's hospital where they could perform surgery. Dad got home, got the news, and went up there to meet them.
Mom and dad stopped by the house to pick up some things - mom was planning to take the first night staying with him at the hospital.
Next call, into surgery.
Next call, out of surgery and sleeping.
I know it's common for his age and that it's a common surgery, but that doesn't make the absolute dread that comes with every ring of the phone any less heart stopping as the news gets worse and worse.
It still burst somewhat, so they have to keep him the next 48 hours minimum for monitoring until they can get his temperature down and he can handle solids again.
I'm still a nervous wreck wondering if the phone is going to ring again.
All the doctors and nurses said he was "brave," because a child in his condition would normally be writhing in pain, but he was just a bored preteen annoyed that he couldn't be at home playing on his Xbox. It reminded me of when I had to start CPR on him when he was about 2 years old because he stopped breathing and his face was turning blue when his temp spiked from having walking pneumonia. By the time the ambulance arrived, he was happy and playing, and aside from the constant temp he was running, you'd never have known he was sick at all, let alone that he just had a small seizure and stopped breathing.
I kept Little Bit occupied with watching many hours of Doctor Who episodes that he didn't watch with us a few weeks ago. He had his own boredom and "look at me" moments, feigning a really sore foot injury and walking around the house with crutches of all things. Oh, woe is him.
Boys.
I think I'm going to go have a crying fit now from the stress and then pass out.
