Just when I thought we were done with those pesky high fevers (and by high think 103+), another round hit us last week. So while our (dating) anniversary might have been on Friday, I spent all weekend and well into the following week sleeping on the couch every night with a toddler who just wanted to binge on popsicles and Mickey Mouse Clubhouse at 3am.
I assumed it was just a viral bug since he was acting totally normal, so we just pushed through the weekend rotating Advil and Tylenol every 3 hours because I didn’t want to risk sitting in the sick room and actually catching something. But Monday came and the fever wasn’t budging, so I made the appointment.
The doctor’s conclusion? TONSILLITIS!
It’s always something! So a finger prick and a screaming toddler later revealed his white blood cell count was pretty high (because it was trying to fight the virus) and he’d need antibiotics. But not just regular antibiotics…a huge needle full right to the thigh.
Then they told me I had to bring him in the following afternoon to check his blood again. Again they pricked his finger, again he screamed the entire time we were there, and AGAIN they gave him another shot of antibiotics. AND AGAIN THEY TOLD ME TO BRING HIM IN THE NEXT DAY. At this point even putting his shoes on started the “no mo docta mama…” pleads and I felt terrible (he’s still doing this anytime we leave the house, btw). Trust me kid, I don’t want to go either. After our 3rd visit (and 3rd $20 copay) his levels were finally going down and he got the oral antibiotics.
I thought the worst was over at this point but the Universe just snickered and laughed at me.
Later that night, Corey was getting dressed for the gym and I was starting a load of laundry. Cooper was playing on the couch and I heard him make a “ehhhhhhhh” noise and I gave the old “I’m cominggggg” back. Right then Uncle David walked through the door and said “um, Cooper needs you guys out here…” and I could tell by the sound of his voice that it wasn’t good.
AND IT WASN’T
Cooper exploded (and exploded is putting it nicely) diarrhea through his diaper, down his legs and ALL OVER THE COUCH. I got him cleaned up and started working on the couch while Cooper took a bath with Daddy. When they came out I was sitting on the bed crying big fat tears.
Corey came and rubbed my shoulders and asked what was wrong (besides the obvious). Between sobs I managed to say “I just scraped shit off the couch I probably have to sleep on tonight!” And we both started laughing.
But thankfully, the couch came clean and we all got a full nights sleep in the bed!