If It Weren't For Bad Luck, I'd Have No Luck At All

So, when it rains it pours in our neck of the woods. You may recall me mentioning that Snort was having some tummy troubles, and then I and the King had some tummy troubles. Well, that was just the beginning of a loooooong story.

By Friday, everyone *seemed* to be doing great. The King and I wanted to do something for the kids for Valentine's day. So, we took the whole family to Gattitown. It's got all you can eat pasta, video games, and a few little rides. We all had a fabulous time. The next day, we all just played and had a typical day. I did lots of cleaning because I'd fallen behind being sick. Then Sunday came.

I got everyone up and dressed and ready for church Sunday morning. Snort had another yucky diaper, but we were waiting for the results of his C-Diff test, so I didn't worry too much about it. Besides, he was acting fine. Not very hungry, but otherwise okay. Off we went to church. The first hour went surprisingly well. Everyone sat nicely and was well-behaved. Snort was fussy, but he always is because church happens during his naptime.

Second hour, all the kids went to their little classes while Snort napped in my arms. Third hour was about the same, except that Snort went with the King. I went to get Pretty from the nursery and they told me she'd played great until about half way through when she just sort of stopped. She went and climbed into the teacher's lap and cuddled the whole last hour, and they said she felt warm. When Snort got to me, he felt warm too.

I got home and took both of their temperatures. Snort was 102.7 and Pretty was at 105.2!!!! I thought something was wrong with the thermometer, so I changed the battery on it and checked it on myself. Nope. It was right. We got a sitter for the other three and rushed to the ER. The place was completely packed. Standing room only, and people were holding their barf buckets. We discussed it, and decided we'd be better off driving the 35 minutes to the Acute Kids care center. They'd be seen right away and it would be cleaner.

Once we got there, they got the kids' temps down with fluids and popsicles. Pretty was tested for flu, strep, and pneumonia. The dr. thought he saw a little pneumonia on the x-ray. Snort was just generally pitiful, but with the C-Diff possibility a shot was his only option. So, they both got a shot in each leg and we were on our way home.

Monday morning, I took them in to our regular pediatrician to follow-up on Sunday's ordeal. Pretty seemed to be doing a little better, but Snort was in bad shape. He was ghostly white with dark red circles all the way around his eyes, he wasn't eating, and would just sit around and moan. The pediatrician looked him over and decided he really needed iv antibiotics in the hospital. (The C-Diff test also came back. It was negative.) Pretty was okay to go home, though.

So, I scurried around to get childcare arranged for everyone and then off to get Snort admitted to the hospital. Little Guy is nursing, so I opted to keep him with me at the hospital. I was feeling some stress at this point, but the King and I had figured out what we were going to do for childcare, so I was alright.

Tuesday morning, Snort was still going downhill. I could tell I was in for a long haul. The King wasn't feeling well, so he dropped Pretty off with me while he went to his appointment. She had been planning to go to her friends' house, but was running a fever, so I didn't want to send her. While the King was gone, I called and got an appointment for Pretty. This is the part where all hell broke loose.

The King took Pretty to her appointment while I stayed with Snort and Little Guy in the hospital. About an hour later, he called and told me her oxygen was way too low and she was being admitted as well. WHAT??!?!?! I freaked out just a little. (Okay, that's an understatement, but you get the idea.) I begged for them to be in the same room so that I could be with them both, but there just wasn't a room available that would be big enough.

The pediatrician came up to see me and Snort and I talked (okay cried) to her about what could possibly have gone wrong that they could both be so very sick. She calmly explained that it just is what it is, and nothing could really have prevented it. Viruses go around. I still was just trying to figure out what I could have done differently. I'll probably never know.

My friend, Janna, came up right away and took Little Guy from me. The dr. wanted him out of the hospital for good reason. I hated letting him go, but knew he'd be in good hands. We found out later that Pretty had RSV, so Little Guy had to go somewhere else so Janna's new grandson wouldn't get sick from him.

Ultimately, our other friend, Danelle, came and stayed at the house with the other three. By Wednesday morning, though, Little Guy was sick. AAAHHHHHHH!!!! So, Danelle came to the hospital with Snort while I took Little Guy to his appointment. RSV. And two bad ear infections. So, he'd be getting a shot a day for three days, but at least able to stay home.

I was pumping milk for Little Guy, but not getting very much. Lack of sleep and not eating or drinking plus added stress will do that to you. On Thursday, the pedi. noted that Little Guy has only gained three ounces over the last four weeks. She wanted me to start supplementing. Great! So, on top of all that, I was starving my baby.

Friday, Snort and Pretty finally got released. They're definately on the mend. Little Guy is still coughing, but they tell me it's a five day virus. Today is day five, so he should be much better by tomorrow. I hope.

I can't tell you how grateful we've been for help from church members and friends. People came out of the woodwork to take turns at the hospital to give us breaks, bring in meals, watch my other children, and so much more. I'd list them all off, but I know I'd forget people.

I'm glad to be home, but could probably sleep for a week and still not be caught up. I'd like to think we're out of the woods, but I can only imagine what is in store for me next. I fully expect an asteroid to fall on my head at any moment. It's a good thing I don't gamble. If it weren't for bad luck, I'd have none at all.