Friday, February 20, 2009


After three days of puke, crap, and hell, the ped said those words every parent dreads, "We're going to check your child into the hospital."

Tears, phone calls, and a wheelchair ride later, Boo and i were settling into the room on the pediatrics floor of our hospital.

After taking the other two heathens to G-Ma's, The Man joined me, scared, worried, and determined to b there for everything, including setting the IV.

Boo was so dehydrated it was 18 hours and 500ml of fluid before he urinated. And he slept for 14 hours straight.

After a bout of diarrhea, we finally got an answer as to why our little boy was so ill.


A virus kicked our collective parental asses ad made our baby boy so ill he lay on the floor and didn't want to move at all. It made him afraid to eat or drink, yet so thirsty he tried anyway, resulting in vomiting.

It made him cry without tears, because his poor body had no liquid to spare.

It made The Man and I cry for him.

Luckily, 36 hours of fluid and he's at home and on the mend. We've still got a way to go before he's back to his normal maniacal self, but the light at the end of the tunnel is no longer a train, but a smiling boy with flashlight.

There is a vaccine now. Punk got it before I even thought about the fact that one of my boys might contract it. they, unfortunately, are too old for the vaccine. But, watching Boo, i am so thankful that she has some protection from this virus from hell.

So we're awash in Pedialyte and Gator juice (gatorade) and dirty diapers. That's okay. He's going to be all right, so I'll live with the shits for a while longer.

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