Yesterday started like pretty much any Sunday -- the Young Prince got up while we slept in, had a dance party in the living room, and then came upstairs and cleaned his room when I woke up and prodded him to do so.
He had a birthday party to attend in the afternoon, so Not Your Average Blogger packed him and his wrapped gift into the car. The kid very briefly mentioned that his head hurt, but got out of the car at his little friend's house and bolted into the house very excited to see everyone, so all seemed well.
An hour later, Party Mom called to tell us he'd spent most of the party in a bedroom lying down with a headache, and now he was throwing up. Huzzah. So I threw on sweat pants and -- looking very unkempt and leaving my purse behind -- off we raced to pick him up. We get there and he's barfed a few more times, including twice between putting on his shoes and getting in the car. Well.
On the way home I start asking questions, starting with, "Where does your head hurt?"
Answer: "Where I hit it on the wood under the window this morning."
What what whaaaa?
How hard? "This much hard," holding up thumb and forefinger apart. Did it hurt all day? No. Does it hurt more when you throw up or less? More. Waiiillll!
NYAB turns the car left and off we go to the shiny new emergency room they just built at our freeway offramp.
"Where are we goooing??? I want medicine!"
"Well, we're taking you to a doctor. Just think, you might get an X-ray!"
I tell you what, two things work well when you need an ER.
1: Go to one in the sticks, ideally not after the bars close.
2: Be throwing up when you walk in. They whisk you right back out of sight and give you a bed and a bucket pronto.
So off I go to fill out forms and sign my name to 500 things, and off they take the kid to Exam Room Five, where we spent the next 2 hours answering the same questions 3 times, getting his eyes and ears examined twice, and lying there looking pathetic. We somehow broke the TV, and wound up passing the time telling Greek mythology stories, which wasn't all bad.
Finally they gave him an anti-nausea fizzy pill and a popsicle, he bounced right back to normal, and as soon as we got the discharge forms he SPRINTED out of the building and to the car. It was like nothing had ever happened.
I'm still bewildered by what WAS going on, but quite grateful his skull isn't any more cracked than it was before.
"2: Be throwing up when you walk in. They whisk you right back out of sight and give you a bed and a bucket pronto. "
not in Ffx city, but to be fair, I usually bring my own bucket. when I don't, they give me one in the waiting room. the only time I've ever been whisked back was when I couldn't stand up I was so sick. and that was only after I stole a wheelchair because they wouldn't let me in the waiting room until mom signed me in. (this was in HS--kidney stone)
Posted by: Mel | March 18, 2010 at 07:45 AM
oh and I know I tend to identify my maladies in everyone's stories of ill health, but that sounds like a dehydration migraine except for the feeling worse after/during vomiting, depending on where his head pain was (forehead, temple, and around the eyes are all migraine, but so is top of the head in the front half) and injuries can instigate migraines in people who haven't had them before. Hopefully that's not it though and he's fine.
Posted by: Mel | March 18, 2010 at 07:47 AM