So the next day which was Sunday, dear readers, all seemed well in our household. The baby woke up in my bed after crying in her crib at 1 a.m. when we finally returned from the Four Seasons AKA the ER so I stuck her in bed with me. We woke up around 7:30 (cause babies can’t possibly sleep in no matter how late they go to bed -they don’t understand that there’s nothing that exciting to wake up for – it’s not exactly Christmas – it’s Sunday). All seemed fine except for a mild temp of 100 which we, meaning I (my husband was still out of town – read visiting hookers)treated with Tylenol and called my brother to come help me out for the day. I was exhausted at this point and needed someone to bring me trashy magazines and watch the baby while I at least clean the puke out of the bathroom.
Meanwhile the baby refused to eat or drink all day but otherwise acted fine. Actually she drank a little first thing in the morning but then went on strike. and yes, I tried everything, popcicles, pedealyte, Margaritas…you name it she swatted it away.
Around 5:30 she started screaming. Blood curdling screaming and hitting her head into my chest. Seriously, out of nowhere. It went on without a break for a half hour before I AGAIN called the emergency oncall doc who couldn’t help but hear my predicatment throught the phone. I said “no fever, was acting fine all day is now screaming in pain” he said “take her back to the er she might have an obstruction.” So back into the car we go with screaming baby to my least favorite place on the planet.
When we arrive, the same meter maid is there doing intake to greet us. And to see her demeanor you’d think she’d never been home. She stares at me like I’m Oprah trying to get into Hermes after hours and shoves paper work at me and Screamy. I’m like “don’t you still have our paper work from last night?” She doesn’t even dignify that with a response just repeats “fill out the paperwork.” So I do. Who can argue with the devil?
Finally since I don’t want to torture you with too many unfunny details, I am taken back again. Again, they are rude and take her temp and then put me in a back room and ask what the problem is. After explaining the situation over her screaming as if it needed much explanation. They declared that I was there for “crying baby” even though she’d been in the ER the night before with 103 fever.
Okay, you parents are going to LOVE this next part. My asshat doctor who’s assigned to me actually says “maybe she’s just colicky.” MAYBE SHE’S JUST COLICKY? Which of course reminded me of that old joke: what do you call a person who graduated dead last in their medical school? A doctor. So you see what I’m dealing with.
Next I have this nurse who I’ve nicknamed Highlights because of her horribly racoon like hair. Highlights was a bitch on wheels who clearly didn’t want to be there, was about 27 and seemed to be more interested in her nails than my baby.
So doctor colick gets a call from my pediatric practices on call doctor who is a beautiful beautiful man (I’ve never met him but I can only assume by his wisdom and patience and willingness to not tolerate the idiocy I’m dealing with) let’s the ER know that he thiks my kid my have an obstruction and tells them what to do. But first they decide they must put an IV in her because she’s again badly dehydrated. This begins both mine and my baby’s reigh of terror and crying. No one of these idiots could find a vein. Okay, back up for a moment here. You know how people who work in places like hospitals can get so immune to the presence of patients that they just say inappropriate shit while you’re right there? Well, this woman in an AC/DC t-shirt – I kid you not – says “I’m done with the babies and kids. That’s it, I’ve had enough. I’m so done with them.” this is said while I’m walking by her with my poor crying baby in my arms. What a cunt right? Sorry ladies, but that’s what she was. Well, after two nurses try to find a vein in vain for an hour they call in Miss I Hate Babies. I said “I overheard you say you don’t want to deal with babies so I’d rather not have you work on mine” the male nurse (and aren’t they always a little suspect anyway?) tells me condecendingly “She’s done hundreds of these. Believe me, she’s doing you a favor by staying after her shift to help.” Doing me a favor? A favor that will cost me and my insurance company thousands of dollars asshole.
The dream team tries to find a vein again for a long time until I find my doctor and put a stop to it. I said, “I don’t care how dehydrated she is, there has to be another way.” He tells me he’ll get someone from NICU to come down and try. By the way, this is a different doctor cause I got rid of Dr. Colick and requested the doctor I’d had the night before. So NICU lady comes down and has no more luck than anyone else.
Finally, they stop trying to hook up an IV and decide she needs a CAT scan of her lower GI. If you’ve never had the pleasure of your baby having one, let me fill you in. They strap them down on a piece of metal in a blue straight jacket while they scream and reach their arms out for mama to help them. It would have taken an entire bottle of Xanax to stop my crying. Even then, I’m not sure I wouldn’t have been whimpering if I was still conscious. Then they fill their little rectum with fluid intil they’re “very uncomfortable. NOT IN PAIN!!! Just uncomfortable.” It sure sounded like pain to me.
After this test it was back to our curtained room to await the results which Highlights told me could take two hours.
I finally got my peanut to sleep off of my chest on the bed and went in search of warm blankets since neither highlights nor anyone else offered me a blanket. While on my search highlights who was munching a salad and some BBQ chips at her station told me in no uncertain terms to get back in my room. And that I wasn’t allowed out and that she had no magazines and could not change the channel on the tv in my room which was loud and in spanish. finally I climbed on a chair and turned it off myself.
At 3 a.m. after much bitching, I was finally moved to the PICU. For the childfree reading that’s the Pediatric ICU. There, I was finally treated with dignity although they did make more attempts at finding a vein. Again they couldn’t. But after poor baby drank a little juice, they let me take her to bed. In the morning, they put tubes down her nose and into her stomach to get fluids in her. I refused any more needles. We were moved to a room in the Peds ward which we shared with another mom who was quite talkative to be nice. Sweet but I was spared no detail of her life even in my tired state.
So, I had to stay another night and I basically watched the bachelor (what’s up with him keeping Moana the crazy one?) and went to sleep. This morning Elby was drinking like a champ and ate her breakfast so at 2 p.m. they let us go home.
Babies should come with a warning label and a prescription for vicidin and Klonopin. Just my opinion.