Last night, around 11:00 p.m. we found ourselves in a place we most definitely did not want to be with our sweet boy. A place where plastic ankle bands are checked, and families huddle together in worry and hope.
The Emergency Room.
Hudson had been sick all weekend, beginning Friday night. What we thought was just a runny nose, quickly progressed to a full blown cold. He got hardly any sleep on Friday, and on Saturday he had developed a fever of 102.7. We treated him with lots of love and snuggles, chicken noodle soup, and a dose of infant's Tylenol every 4 hours. On Saturday, he seemed to sleep a little bit better, but the fever remained overnight. By late Sunday afternoon, our happy little guy had become uncharacteristically mellow, almost lethargic. He rarely sat or stood on his own, didn't want to play, and it took all the energy he could muster to pull his little head away from my chest so that he could turn his droopy eyes up to look at me, wordlessly pleading for me to help the pain go away.
Last night at 8:30, his fever had risen to 103.6. We put him in his second lukewarm bath of the day, and continued the dosage of Tylenol in hopes that we could bring his fever down. I immediately called his pediatrician's office, leaving a message for a triage nurse to return my call. By 10:00, things had taken a turn for the worse. His fever had spiked to 104.6 degrees. After speaking with the nurse, she advised us to take him to the ER.
I won't lie. I was scared to death. We have been blessed since Hudson's birth, aside from 3 ear infections last winter, he has never had any health problems. Nor has he ever had a fever over 102 degrees. Our poor little guy was truly sick, and all I could do on that short drive to the hospital was pray that everything would be okay.
After a few tests, and a unsuccessful dose of Motrin, that he didn't ingest but instead vomited up, we finally lowered his fever. While we were there it went down to 103 degrees, and by the time we left, thanks to a shot of Rocephin in his chubby little thigh, his temperature had dropped back to a normal reading of 98.6 degrees. The doctor concluded he had two painful ear infections and an upper respiratory infection. By 12:30 a.m., they had sent us on our way, and we all felt much better. Hudson was able to rest peacefully, and Will and are were able to breathe a sigh of relief that our little boy had been diagnosed with something treatable, something we could handle with antibiotics.
And on our way home from the hospital, I continued to pray. This time, thanking God for watching over us.
Today, Hudson has continued to feel much better.