Anyway, Monday it snowed. My kids were home, and Zachary was sick again. This time he had diarrhea, I mean bad. Bill went to get him out of bed in the morning, and it was EVERYWHERE. Bill thought he might have played in it to spread it around, which we have yet to have a child do that. Jones's are not poop people by nature. But later we would learn that his poop was just soooo runny it ran out the sides when he moved. We know this from what happened Tuesday, but why jump ahead.
My driveway was plowed for me, a very, VERY nice thing my lovely b-i-l does for us. Sunday night I tried to send our snow blower home with a friend, but it wouldn't start, making the plowing all the more appreciated.
Monday morning at 630 am I called Brian H. to come get his children, because Z was obviously sick and Savannah was to come home Monday. He came, and then I put Z in the tub.
He was fed very gingerly, which was hard 'cuz he begged for everything all day. Monday night he sat in front of wonderful, yummy corn chowder, and rested his head on his arm and watched us eat, then begged for more food five minutes later. Poor kid, his tummy was all out of sorts.
Tuesday I had to put together the Relief Society Enrichment Christmas party. The plan had been made, and gratefully Lynn had followed through on the specifics I had asked her to do, so the people were all in place. But the "stuff" hadn't been done. I was leaving to run like a chicken with my head cut off when Z was sick. So Linda pitched in and kept him til 2. My car gave out second gear, which means 25 MPH was a struggle, so my mom let me drive her truck for the day. I dropped Z at Linda's, went grocery shopping, took the groceries and platters to Nicki, who prepared the food with her mom and Betsey's help, drove a fake tree to the church, stopped at Hannaford's in Farmington for more rolls, took the rolls to Nicki, went back to Linda's for Zachary, and made it home for Dustin. Then Nicki drove me and my children to the church at 4, we set out the tables, decorated with Christmas decorations, Bill came and got our children, and went home. I got a call at 730 that Bill was going to the ER, because at work he had crushed his finger and the skin had popped. His brother saw it and suggested he should get stitches. If Kevin thinks it's bad, you should definitely get it looked at.
So Linda stepped in and stayed at my house with our boys 'till I got home at 945. Bill was home around midnight, and we were both up with Z puking the rest of the night, essentially.
Bill stayed home Wednesday to sleep. My cough worsened some as I lacked sleep and catered to Z who (understandably) whined and fussed quite pathetically all day. Bill relieved me in the afternoon, but at 400 when Z threw up AGAIN we decided all he had kept down was a Popsicle. No fever, no sneezing, just diarrhea and throwing up. The doctor said to take him to the ER for fluids. I reminded her she promised if he ever had to be admitted she would do it, and she said she remembered, so hurry and take him in now.
Mom picked the boys up at 5, and off we went to the ER. I love my doctor. The ER ordered some tests, and while we were waiting he threw up again and had ANOTHER watery diaper. When they were putting in the IV my Dr walked in. She examined him, talked to the ER doc, and because he was just a bump on a log, so listless, they decided to admit him until he could eat by mouth and keep it down. He was more than willing to drink, in fact we had to restrain him all night by giving him tiny, 1 oz doses at a time, and then telling him he had to wait.
So we stayed. He woke up every hour on the hour except 2 am. But it's ok, I didn't miss 2 am, I had a big coughing fit then. Bill went home to be with the older boys and we figured he'd pick us up after putting them on the bus.
5 am Z was up for the day, and begging for candy. Dumb me didn't grab supper on the way to the ER, so Bill bought me candy at the vending machine. Z spotted it when we got upstairs Wednesday night, and begged for candy throughout the night. When at 6 am he changed to begging for Daddy, and I mean begging, "I wan my dad-dy" with almost every exhale, we called Daddy and said, "Make a new plan." Sadly when Daddy arrived Z asked him for candy, and when Daddy said no he wanted Mommy again. Oi.
He was finally released at noon, having kept in Jell-O and apple juice. That afternoon, when I awoke at home he had vomited. Intuitively my Dr (whom I love, have I told you?) called to see how it was going. She said the only way to avoid another night in the hospital was to follow WHO guidelines for third world countries. We adjusted 1 tsp every two to three minutes to 1 1/2 tsp every two and a half minutes. I kid you not. From 5:00 to 8:00 when Bill put him in bed.
We rushed the boys through mac n cheese so that Z wouldn't beg for it, and my poor Brian said, "Mom, why does everything bad have to happen?" *Sigh*
Zachary slept with us, I woke up hacking at 1 am and couldn't sleep around him well from then on. So Bill missed Friday too, because I was about beside myself with exhaustion, I slept almost the whole day while Z slowly graduated from applesauce to banana to toast.
Friday night at 10:30 pm I got a call from Melissa, who was terrified. We know now Savannah was having a reaction to fever, pain, and a med she's being given, but at the time she was delirious. It was awful.
Saturday looked busy but optimistic until about 8 am. Unfortunately, that was when we got the call from Eddie Castonguay. They had offered to let Brian use a pair of twin steers for his first 4H project. Brian went the day after Thanksgiving to exercise them:
Famous and Amos the Castonguays named them. Eddie called to tell us one had died in the early hours of the morning. The night before he went to his supper fine, and then walked oddly back, so they gave him a shot of penicillin. In the morning he looked awful, so they called the Vet, but he died before he got there. Poor Eddie was so upset, Bill told him not to worry, these things happen.
We decided not to tell Brian. We had a lot to do, and didn't want him upset all day.
Melissa called, and I decided to go with her to a meeting with a client she had been unable to call to cancel. Then I shopped for toys to donate at Dustin and Brian's 4H meeting. I came home and tried pitifully to help the boys carry wood from the shed to the garage. We went to Dustin's basketball game (and they won!). Bill left to go look at a van to buy in Turner, and when he came back he told Brian about his steer. Not long after, we went to bed.
Sunday was church, then 4 H meeting for Bill, Brian, and Michael. Z and I took Dustin to basketball practice, and then went to Cumby's for a drink. I locked the door as I got out, not realizing you had to "play" with the key to unlock it. In his defense, Bill didn't know it either. I went in and called him to come help me (which is when he said "just play with it"), and went back out and "played", desperately trying to restrain myself from giving it a good swift kick. The guy who works there came out and offered to help, and was able to get it after several minutes. Oh, and it was my anniversary.
So I tell people these days my life has turned into not just a bad country song, but an exaggerated version of what people think of bad country songs!!
Stay tuned for a more positive post...