THE DOAN GANG: October 2009

In case some of you hadn’t heard, just about the time Gideon stopped barfing we got a little nervous about some bumps that appeared all over Miss-Bit. She had been running a bit of a fever a few days before and I assumed it had to do with teeth (it’s ALWAYS teeth.) But then these little red bumps appeared everywhere. Belly. Legs. Arm. Neck. The first thing that came to mind was "Oh, you have to be kidding me! SHE HAS CHICKEN POX!?” But once I got over the ‘how much more anti-bacterial spray do I need to buy!?’ I called the Dr. and she let me know that it was more likely Roseola. She assured me the rash would go away quickly and that it really shouldn’t bother babes at all. ~~I didn’t believe her.~~ What do you know, Ashe is fine. The bumps are gone. They lasted like 2 days. Gideon never got it. (Can I get a hallelujah!)

Now as for Gid-the-kid. His sickness was horrible. ROTTEN. Miserable. He barfed and then barfed more and in the mix of all that he had diarrhea. And he cried and ran a fever. And he BARF, BARF, BARFED. But through all the barfing we still managed to get him to drink. (Because the dr. said to watch for dehydration.) He’d sip gatorade, munch ice chips, gnaw on popsicles.

Then, a MIRACLE happened. He slept all night long without puking. I thought we were out of the woods….

He woke up the next morning at 6:30 and wouldn’t eat or drink anything. No biggy I thought, he’ll come around. By 8:30 he was back asleep. He slept till 11. When he woke I tried for lunch. No. A popsicle? No. Gatorade? No. Some juice? No. Water? No. Ice? NOOOOOO!!!!! And with that, he fell asleep again. And he slept… and slept… and slept. And finally at 4 pm I loaded him in the car and took him to Children’s Mercy.

As I expected, he was dehydrated. So I had to sit and hold my sick little boy while they stuck him with an IV because even those miracle working nurses couldn’t get him to take a drink of ANYTHING. The popsicles failed them too. But the nurse got the IV on the first try and then Gid & I snuggled in a rocking chair while the IV and Gid-Man’s eyes drip, drip, dripped. And then after about 30 minutes. He ate a popsicle. And he giggled. And he said “I wanna go home, Momma.” and so…

We did. (after about 10 more minutes and with permission of the Dr. of course.)

And now he’s great. He’s my normal, healthy, happy, little boy and is back wrestling his sister to the ground at every opportunity.

And with ALLLL THAT…. I am one thankful Momma for it all being in the past. Here’s to hoping we’re all sicked out.