OR: Why you should never say that everything is boring and there is nothing to blog about.
We spent last night in the emergency room. Not because a button burst off my pants and blasted Mark in the eye. But because Olivia was playing a new game - Bet I Can Get My Mom To Call 911.
She's really good at it.
Yesterday, I was wearing my scummiest clothes and on my way to the gym, when my sitter called to tell me that Olivia had a temperature of 102.5. So I turned around and went back to work to finish some things up so that I could get my little ball of fire. I'm not going to lie, I would be the best In-Pajamas worker. Ever.
Things were OK in the afternoon. Olivia clearly
felt like shit didn't feel well, and took a 2.5 hour nap in the afternoon to go with her 3 hour nap in the morning. At bedtime it was time for more Motrin, so I took her temperature first so that I could see what we were dealing with.
And that's exactly when she had a seizure.
I'm sure you know, if you read this blog with any regularity, that Olivia is in constant motion. From the time she wakes to the time she drops off to sleep. So when she stopped moving I knew something was wrong, because she hates having a thermometer up her butt. I can't imagine why.
She looked...stoned.* I think. I've never been stoned mahself. But not Dude Where's My Car stoned. More like took 12 too many Valium stoned. And her left arm was jerking around in the air while the rest of her body was frozen. I didn't connect the dots just yet. I looked down at the thermometer.
103.5 SHIT SHIT SHIT SHE'S HAVING A SEIZURE FUCK DAMN HALP HALP HAAAAALP!
So I pick her up, because I am not smart and have never spent my spare time reading up on febrile seizures. And she was totally limp. She was grunting, and a constant stream of drool was running out of her mouth. Her eyes were totally glossed over and wouldn't focus on anything. Her heart was beating so hard that I could feel it against my chest where I held her. She had a bowel movement.
Mark very calmly called 911 like a champ, and within seconds they were at our house. And if I was to ever blatantly make out with someone right in front of Mark? It would be these guys. I've never been so willing to stick my tongue in someone's ear (well, maybe the anesthesiologist in L&D). I guess competence is a turn on for me when mah baybee is seizing and I'm freaking out.
They were nothing like Reno 911, which is what automatically pops into my head when I think 911 - even when there is a real life actual emergency. I see this in my mind:
They offered to take us to the ER, but we decided to drive ourselves. Olivia had returned to normalish. So they left and we started to get ready to go. It was not without much vomit from Olivia. MUCH vomit. Much vomit right into my face, onto the kitchen floor, into the sink. Poor, sweet, sick baybee. You can't even get upset.
Plus, the dogs ate most of it before we could get to it, so win, win, win I say.
This is getting pretty lengthy and I am exhausted, so I'll finish later.
SPOILER ALERT: everything appears to be fine. But people watching in the ER warrants a full description, plus we go to the pediatrician today at 11:30 so I'll have a full report next time.
*2010 is starting off with a bang. On Saturday, the dog groomer cut Milo's tongue down the middle** and we had to have an emergency visit with sedation and stitches and antibiotics OH FUCKING MY. And he was stoned that entire night. Have you ever seen a stoned dog? Not even awesome at all.
**She claims that she had no idea, and that there were a few drops of blood on his face so she thought maybe he bit his tongue. I told her I found that a bit hard to believe, since he started spewing blood from his face on our ride home and was barking something that sounded like REDRUM.***
***You bet your sweet ass I'm making them pay the $180 medical bill. If she hadn't played dumb and just told me the truth and suggested a visit to the vet? I'd understand that accidents happen and just let it go. But I'm incapable of bullshit and so I'm sending her the bill. She has agreed to pay it, but we'll see.****
****I'm more than willing to cut her tongue down the middle, tell her that she must have bit it, and call it even.