Better Safe Than Sorry

OK. Not all our adventures here are all that fun.

Better Safe Than Sorry: So, we heard those words a few more time than we'd like last weekend.

Owen spiked a 101F/38.5C fever on Thursday night, and after several doses of Calpol (Britain's miracle drug), it still wasn't breaking. So, we called the doctor. He said, bring him in. Better safe than sorry.

We sped down to the clinic as they were closing at 12:30pm. We arrived at 12:29pm. The GP examined Owen, figured it was probably just a bug. She found a miniscule dot on his leg, and thought we should go see the pediatrician (here, that means go to A&E, Accident & Emergency.) Better safe than sorry.

I drag Margot and Owen over to A&E. The man next to us is dripping some gross liquids from his body. We move to new seats. Luckily Owen is called right away. His fever is now around 100F/37C so that's good. They examine him at length: cranky, skin is mottled and random, tiny dot on his leg (seriously, smaller than a pinprick). They decide I should collect his urine to rule out a urinary tract infection. This process involves me nursing a wriggling baby while holding a plastic cup over his privates. Are they serious? When he lets loose, I'm supposed to catch it. Needless to say, the first time he pees, it goes all over my shirt (did I mention I ran out of the house in my PJs?). So, we have to keep feeding him. Margot finds this hysterical. We finally catch some pee in the cup. Test results: negative. Better safe than sorry.

Next, they decide we need to take some blood. Margot has run through all the snacks in the diaper bag and is starving. We didn't get to have lunch. The student nurse has to distract her by blowing up rubber gloves and floating them around. I have to hold Owen down while they extract vial after vial of blood. He's miserable. I'm miserable. Margot is having a blast. This takes forever. They are going to run some cultures to test for infection. Better safe than sorry.

I finally break and ask Andy to come meet us at the hospital.

As he's still cranky, the doctor wants to talk to me. Who wouldn't be cranky? Every time he falls asleep, they come back in to test his blood or poke at him. She wants to do a lumbar tap to rule out meningitis. What? At this point, Margot & I are both running on extremely low blood sugar. Andy is on his way. They tell me and Margot to leave him for 10 minutes as most parents can't handle their child's screams during this process. Oh, neat. We kiss Owen and run outside where we find Andy. When we return, Owen is snuggling the nurse getting his first round of antibiotics. They say, we're going to admit him now. the blood test results won't be back for 12-48 hours. Better safe than sorry.

We're led upstairs to a private room on the pediatric ward. This is a big deal as most everyone else is just in a big room separated by curtains. We're left there for a long time. Andy takes Margot home for some food and a nap. His first meningitis results are negative. Phew. Didn't really think that was the problem anyway.

We end having to stay for 48 hours in the hospital. They won't let us leave until all his results are back. Owen is a trooper. He's on an IV all night Friday. We nurse, nurse, nurse. He keeps most of it down. His fever goes down. He starts smiling a lot. Margot manages to take over the children's ward - hoarding all the toys in our room. I have to keep telling her to share them with the sick children. Sheesh. Andy & Margot bring us edible food and come play with us for moral support. They give him more antibiotics Saturday. By Sunday, all results are clean and they let us leave. Thank God. We're just to keep an eye on him for the next few days. Better safe than sorry.

So, we're home. We're exhausted. Owen is fine. Margot wants to go back to the hospital to "play."

Glad we're all together and thankful that this is a rare occurrence for us.