This day has basically killed my will to live. I have run 52 miles in one day but that didn't zap me as much as having a sick kid.
— Zoot (@misszoot) July 17, 2015
I made this tweet last night and I could not have meant it more if I had carved it in the skin across my chest.
Sick kids are the most exhausting thing in the world.
On Wednesday Wes’s school called saying he had a headache, but it was about 25 minutes from when I would leave work anyway so it wasn’t a big deal. He wasn’t feverish at all but he had just done 3 days of basketball camp embedded into his regular daycare days which are already SUPER active on top of an insane weekend of head injuries so I thought he had just overdone it. I put him in bed with the TV remote and a bottle of water and insisted he drink the whole thing in case he was dehydrated. He seemed fine, just tired.
Yesterday morning he woke up and actually said he felt better. He seemed well-rested and spirited. Then I got the call from daycare again around 11am. This time? Headache and fever.
When I got to the YMCA he was asleep on the table in the foyer and he looked TERRIBLE. He wouldn’t even walk he felt so bad. I had to carry him ON MY BACK to the car. I got him home, put him in bed and took his temperature. 102.5. Since his only symptom was a sever headache which now had been around for about 24 hours, I called to make him a doctor’s appointment. Our doctor was out so we had another in the practice…3pm.
He slept feverishly next to me the next several hours. His fever got up to 103.2 and I didn’t leave his side because I just wanted to be near him since he seemed so ill and I had never seen him like that. When it was time for his appointment I carried him (on my back) to the car and then carried him again to the doctor. He was miserable.
We ended up being there almost 2 hours because his tonsils were swollen so they thought “STREP!” But the strep test (which you know he HATED, of course) came back negative. So then they did a blood draw (which he also hated) so we waited on that to see if what he had was viral or bacterial.
His white blood count was only slightly elevated, so they decided to give him an antibiotic “injection” (they avoided using the word “shot” thankfully) and want us back this morning to see if it did any good. I had to hold him down for the shot which was GIANT and even scared me a little and he screamed like I’ve never seen him scream before.
I got him home and put him back to bed. His fever had dropped to 101 but he was still feeling super-puny.
I basically spent all afternoon/evening just watching him feel awful with the periodic carrying of him to the bathtub or to the car or to the bed. He wouldn’t walk anywhere. He slept most of the day, although I still stayed by his side because he just made me so nervous being THAT sick.
And by the time 8pm rolled around? I felt like I had run back-to-back-TO-BACK marathons. I was zapped. I didn’t do CRAP but worry about my kid but I’ve depleted any and all energy reserves I had in my system. And I woke up at 3am still worrying about him. He doesn’t feel warm this morning whereas he felt like his skin was ON FIRE yesterday, so I’m hoping that’s a good sign. If he’s feeling better I can at least try to do some work while we’re home together as I won’t be checking his skin for rashes or monitoring his breathing or googling things like Meningitis or Black Plague.
My point to all of this? If you’ve ever cared for a sick kid? You could easily run a marathon. I promise you. And you’d end the marathon thinking, “Way easier than having a sick kid.”