Monday, November 14, 2005
Why yes, that is the sun coming up
Somewhere around 3 A.M. Sunday morning, my wife and I learned in the most difficult of manners, that our son was less than healthy.
More specifically, the wife found out. Apparently, at an earlier point in the night, Junior had unconsciously emptied his bladder. Normally, while wearing a diaper, this is not a big deal. Unfortunately for my wife, a diaper can only hold so much liquid.
Never having been one to be awoken by being urinated on, I can only assume that it is not one of the most pleasant of experiences. This was when I was summoned out of slumber. Junior needed to be changed while Kristi cleaned herself up. No big deal. Put a fresh diaper on the boy, everybody gets back in bed, time to go back to sleep, right?
WRONG!
The next thing I hear is the unmistakable sound of a human vomiting. Due to the fact that the boy seems to like his mother more than me, she just happened to be within range of this particular projectile. Unable to grasp the gravity of the situation as quickly as was necessary, she got hit a second time as Junior uncontrollably heaved.
Now he’s covered in his own filth, the sheets, pillows and my wife’s back have all been desecrated as well. And this is when the pit crew-like unison of work comes into effect. Words are not necessary. She hauls the boy into the bathroom, disrobing as she goes. As soon as they have left the bed, it is stripped and thrown into the washing machine.
Bath water is started as the boy’s pajamas are removed. Fresh clothes are gathered as the two get cleaned up and new sheets are spread out onto the fold-out bed in the living room (there was no way we were getting back into that bed, it had been soaked down to the mattress).
All this before 6 A.M.
After the next round of vomiting, a call is placed to the pediatrician’s office. Call is returned by a nurse with a statement that he probably has one of the very contagious bugs that is currently making the rounds, and she would have a doctor call us so that we might get a prescription called in to the local pharmacy.
Well, 6 phone calls, 5 hours, and about 10 more fits of vomiting and we finally have our return phone call from the doc, who calls into the local Kroger a prescription for phenigrin (sp?).
With a warning from the pharmacist that this “might make him drowsy”, we administer the drug. Rectally. This is not a form of pill popping that is comfortable for anyone involved.
And finally, he can sleep. And we can relax.
Now we just have to hope that we haven’t contracted the same thing. ¶ 2:05 PM
More specifically, the wife found out. Apparently, at an earlier point in the night, Junior had unconsciously emptied his bladder. Normally, while wearing a diaper, this is not a big deal. Unfortunately for my wife, a diaper can only hold so much liquid.
Never having been one to be awoken by being urinated on, I can only assume that it is not one of the most pleasant of experiences. This was when I was summoned out of slumber. Junior needed to be changed while Kristi cleaned herself up. No big deal. Put a fresh diaper on the boy, everybody gets back in bed, time to go back to sleep, right?
WRONG!
The next thing I hear is the unmistakable sound of a human vomiting. Due to the fact that the boy seems to like his mother more than me, she just happened to be within range of this particular projectile. Unable to grasp the gravity of the situation as quickly as was necessary, she got hit a second time as Junior uncontrollably heaved.
Now he’s covered in his own filth, the sheets, pillows and my wife’s back have all been desecrated as well. And this is when the pit crew-like unison of work comes into effect. Words are not necessary. She hauls the boy into the bathroom, disrobing as she goes. As soon as they have left the bed, it is stripped and thrown into the washing machine.
Bath water is started as the boy’s pajamas are removed. Fresh clothes are gathered as the two get cleaned up and new sheets are spread out onto the fold-out bed in the living room (there was no way we were getting back into that bed, it had been soaked down to the mattress).
All this before 6 A.M.
After the next round of vomiting, a call is placed to the pediatrician’s office. Call is returned by a nurse with a statement that he probably has one of the very contagious bugs that is currently making the rounds, and she would have a doctor call us so that we might get a prescription called in to the local pharmacy.
Well, 6 phone calls, 5 hours, and about 10 more fits of vomiting and we finally have our return phone call from the doc, who calls into the local Kroger a prescription for phenigrin (sp?).
With a warning from the pharmacist that this “might make him drowsy”, we administer the drug. Rectally. This is not a form of pill popping that is comfortable for anyone involved.
And finally, he can sleep. And we can relax.
Now we just have to hope that we haven’t contracted the same thing. ¶ 2:05 PM
