… And not in the good way.
Kazander and I had decided to go out on Friday night. We were out, having fun, when we got a text from the babysitter. The spawn was vomiting all over the place and couldn’t hold anything down. So we drove home.
When we got there, I got the spawn dressed, changed my shoes, and drove her to the emergency room. She threw up all over the waiting room (she was kind enough not to puke in my car), the hospital staff, and the bed they’d given her.
They tried to feed her some nausea medication, and she threw that up immediately. They tried to give her jello, and she threw that up.
By that time, she was severely dehydrated and begging for water. So they tried to give her some, but she threw it up.
Finally, around 4 am, her stomach calmed down enough for her to take a nap. The ER doctor came up to me and said that there wasn’t anything else they could do.
Naturally, I raised a brow at that. I was in a hospital, with a dehydrated toddler who couldn’t stop vomiting, and who hadn’t been able to keep anything down for hours and hours. There was nothing he could do?
So I asked him, since this is the second time she’s gotten sick like this, how many more times does it take until it becomes a problem. He replied that it was already a problem, and that there was something going on in her that needs to be dealt with.
So I said, “And a hospital isn’t the appropriate place to solve that problem in the middle of the night on a weekend?”
He shook his head. And that’s when I started to get pissed off. He explained that the emergency room only rules out life-or-death situations. I reminded him that it was after midnight when I brought her in, and I wasn’t aware that sick children can’t be treated until their condition deteriorates to life-threatening.
I realized I was getting loud when I saw the security guard walk down the hallway toward us, but I didn’t care. I was yelling when I finally told him, “You realize that you’re telling me that my kid is sick, and it’s serious, and good luck with that.”
That’s when he spewed a line of bullshit about hospitals being full of infectious diseases and he would be putting her health at risk if he admitted her, and that he didn’t want to subject her to a battery of tests she may or may not need.
Seriously, that’s what he said. I can’t make that shit up.
He said I needed to take her to a gastric specialist. I reminded him that my kid wasn’t able to keep anything down, and if that didn’t change, I wouldn’t be able to keep her alive long enough to see the specialist.
So finally, he said that his next shift started at 6 pm that night, and if she still couldn’t keep anything down by then, to bring her back and he’ll admit her. I asked him then about the effects of keeping a 2-year-old dehydrated for 24 hours, but he never really answered that question.
So I took her home, put her to bed, and finally fell into my bed around 5:30 am. When she woke up, she wouldn’t eat anything. She wanted something to drink, and the nurse (who was actually very helpful, unlike the doctor) suggested Gatorade, so we gave her some of that, but she would only drink a little bit. But at least she wasn’t throwing up.
She finally started eating a little bit last night, and today was a little better. She still has a headache, and a fever off and on throughout the day, but that’s just from dehydration, and the more she drinks, the better she’ll feel.
Part of me is a little embarassed about making such a scene in the emergency room. I’m usually in better control of myself. But I was frustrted and just couldn’t believe that this man was actually telling me that yes, she was sick, but he wasn’t going to help her.
At least her pediatrician is helpful, and I’ll be calling him in the morning to get her seen and figure out what’s causing her to get so sick.