I know it pours when it rains, but PLEASE let this rainstorm be over with for now

“Mommy, that was a fun day with the doctors!” Those were the first words out of Rose’s mouth as we finally left the ER at 3:10 PM today. “That was fun watching TV with the doctors!”

Saturday afternoon and evening, I had the most intense attack of stomach flu I’ve had in ages — let’s just say that the only times in my adult life when I’ve vomited were when I was in labor — and two nights ago. Maybe it was food poisoning, maybe flu; I don’t know. I got a substitute for Nursery on Sunday and stayed home and slept as much as I could on Sunday morning, hoping to be well by the time Dean left town that afternoon (he’s gone to a conference through Thursday evening.) Happily, I did recover quickly, and by yesterday evening was feeling only slightly queasy (and very tired.) Then, dreading the long and busy week ahead of me without Dean to help me with the kids (Cub Scout Blue and Gold Banquet to attend, Isaac’s science fair, a Stake Relief Society thing, etc.) I stayed up way too late last night (a procrastination thing I do. To be honest, I’ll probably stay up too late tonight, too.)

This morning Rose woke up complaining of pain at the back of her head, near the base of her skull. She felt warm to me. I gave her a children’s dose of acetaminophen and then I went back to bed and slept fitfully for another hour or so — all the while hearing her complaining of pain every few minutes. By the time I got back up, she was practically screaming every time she moved or anyone bumped her. I did an internet search for “pediatric neck pain,” read about meningitis, and called my mom: “You won’t believe this, but Rose has a fever and is complaining of acute neck pain.” She: “I’m coming right over.”

She also called my brother and asked him to come give Rose a priesthood blessing before we left. Meanwhile, my visiting teacher called to check in with me because she was going to be babysitting for me later today when I was to go for my first of eight iron injections (because I have very low ferritin reserves.) I told her I was about to leave for the ER (oh, and I had also called the Urgent Care clinic to ask whether it was better to go there or to the Emergency Room, and they said that with Rose’s symptoms, the ER would be a better choice,) and she offered to call my home teachers to help give the blessing, as well. Everyone (my mom, brother, and home teachers,) all showed up within 20 minutes, and Rose was able to receive a really comforting blessing before we left. Still, she screamed with pain as we helped her into the car,* and complained at every bump and curve on the drive to Orem Community Hospital. In between her cries of pain, she told me, at least twice, “I love you, Mommy.”

Having experienced really long waits in emergency rooms in the past, on my way out the door I had grabbed anything I could think of to entertain and feed Rose and myself while we waited, but we were the only people there and were able to be checked in right away; they saw how Rose was protecting her neck and shared my concern that it could indicate meningitis. Meanwhile my Mom sent my brother to bring me a McDonald’s breakfast, which I wasn’t hungry for at first (I’d managed to wolf a half a bowl of granola before I left) but which I would later be grateful for.

Rose didn’t have a fever when they checked it at the ER, and since at home I’d only felt her temperature with my hands but not measured it, we don’t know whether she’d had a fever earlier and the acetaminophen had brought it down, or she just hadn’t had one at all. After that, the doctor said the first thing would be to rule out strep, since strep symptoms can sometimes mimic those of meningitis. He said an instant strep culture would take about 10 minutes — and that if it came back negative, he really thought that, to be safe and rule out meningitis, she should have a lumbar puncture (spinal tap.)

About 40 minutes later, we got the results — negative for strep. The doctor explained to me that with kids Rose’s age, his preference is to put them out for the spinal tap, because otherwise they have to be held very still, and it can be really traumatic. He offered me the choice of a sedating injection, which could take a long time both to take effect and also to wear off, or we could do an I.V. and have much more immediate control of the dosing, and it would be quicker; we could be done with the procedure and have the results within an hour or so. (I think at this point it was 10:30 AM.) I said I’d prefer the I.V. They told me the anesthetic (I can’t remember now the name of the one they chose to use) might cause her eyes to jerk around or make her do funny mouth movements as she was coming out of it, and that we would dim the lights when it was wearing off and try not to have much stimulus in her surroundings, since people can have weird dreams as it’s wearing off.

Then they put the I.V. in — they couldn’t find a vein in her arm and had to put it in her hand, and this was definitely the worst part of it for Rose, but she was exceedingly brave. While they were getting the needle placed, and also drawing some blood for lab-work, I made up stories to distract her. (Trying to come up with anything at all, I told her a story about a very small frog who had a hard time reaching flies to catch and eat, and a very large frog who had trouble finding clothes big enough to fit him, and how they made friends, and the small frog went to all the shops in town until he found one that sold clothes big enough for the big frog, and then the big frog helped the little frog catch flies to eat. The doctor and nurses were possibly more entertained by my story than Rose was.**) Eventually the nurses got everything in place, and got the medication going, and Rose almost immediately relaxed, and stared. It was kind of weird to watch. They laid her on her side in a fetal position, and the spinal tap itself went very smoothly and was over with very quickly. The doctor said that although we’d have to wait an hour or so to get the labwork back, her spinal fluid looked clear, so it probably meant she was fine.

Then the doctors and nurses left us and I waited for Rose to come to. After a few minutes, she opened her eyes; they flickered around and eventually focused on me. Very slowly, she breathed out the word, “M-o-o-o-o-m.” I said I was right next to her. She repeated my name again, slowly, but looking elsewhere, so I moved myself back into her field of vision. She focused on me again, and then, with great effort, said clearly, “You have four eyes.” Then, carefully pointing her index finger towards my face, she counted under her breath, (I think I heard her say “three, six, nine, four,”) and, satisfied, repeated, “You have four eyes.” Then she drifted off to sleep.

I got on my cell phone to call Dean and my mom and let them know that the outcome would probably be good, and while I was on the phone Rose woke up again, and, looking up at the ceiling, appeared to see something and said, her voice escalating, “Help. Help! Hellllp!” I had to hang up on my Mom to comfort Rose. I got Rose watching kid shows on PBS (she was able to correctly identify that she was watching “Betweeen the Lions,”) and then I was able to finish my phone call. She fell back asleep again. I waited.

After an hour or so a nurse came in and said, “if she’s awake, you can take her home now.” He left and I woke Rose and started to get my things together. He came back in and told me that the courier with her samples had gotten delayed, so they didn’t have the lab results yet, so we would need to stay least another half an hour, maybe an hour. Later the doctor told me that he had not known the labwork for a spinal tap couldn’t be processed on site and had to be sent elsewhere. Now Rose was wide awake, uncomfortable, and bothered by the I.V. in her hand. (They didn’t want to remove the I.V. in case she ended up needing antibiotics.) I fed her Goldfish crackers and sips of water and read a book while she watched TV. At some point during all this, she looked at me and said, “Now you just have two eyes. And one nose, and one mouth.”

And still we waited. They rolled her bed into a different room. They told us that most of the lab results were back — just not the most important one. Rose continued to complain about her I.V. — it was on the hand of the thumb she likes to suck, so she couldn’t comfort herself. (We did have her favorite toy Lambie with us, and I was very glad we did, since it helped a lot to comfort her.) She never fell back asleep. A couple of times she repeated that I now only had two eyes. She also pointed out that the room had a TV and a clock. Finally, about five and a half hours after we’d arrived at the ER, all the lab results came back and were all good, and they said we could leave. They said her neck pain may have just been caused by a flu, and that we should give her Motrin for a couple of days.

Before leaving for the ER that morning, I’d tried to find the phone number of the clinic where I was supposed to get an iron injection at 1 PM — but I couldn’t find the number. I told them about this at the ER, and, although at that point they still thought we’d be home well before 1, they tracked down the phone number for me, called the clinic, and was told I could show up any time before 4:00. So, leaving the clinic at 3:10, I rushed to drop off Rose with my Mom, and made it to Provo by around 3:40. Getting my iron injection (which I had thought would be the main event of my day) turned out to only take a few minutes and was the easiest part of my day.

My mom said that Rose said lots of funny things while I was gone getting my I.V. injection, including telling her, “The doctors have TVs!” When I picked her back up, Rose told me she’d had a fun time with Grandma. It looks like Rose will mostly remember this day as a fun date with Mommy and Grandma and the doctors who have TVs.

And now, we’re more or less back to normal around here. (Normal being that we need to rid our home of peanut products and get Henry to an allergist and get an epi-pen and learn how to use it. And, you know, all those other little things, like catching up on laundry and dishes, and — on and on.)

If I had to draw one conclusion to all this, (including all the events of the last few weeks — my PCOS/low iron diagnosis, our discovery of Henry’s peanut allergy, our various colds and flus,) it’d have to be that I feel very, very blessed to have the support and prayers of family and friends at times like this. I’ve also definitely felt Heavenly Father’s love and help and comfort, and the guidance of the Holy Ghost. Also, I’m very tired. Lastly: if you want to feel sorry for me, (and Henry, and Rose, and the rest of us,) — I won’t stop you.

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*My mom stayed at my house to watch the other kids.

**In general, though, Rose is very appreciative of any stories (traditional or original) that Dean and I tell her: her typical response is a little sigh, followed by, “That was a great story, Mom.”

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