A few weeks ago at about 8pm, Beatrix suddenly got hit with a high fever. I’m not sure how high it was actually because our thermometers are always missing or broken, thanks to the twins’ charming ability to hide/lose/destroy any and all useful objects in the home, but she was very hot. Not long after the fever began, she started breathing rapidly, got lethargic, shakey, vomited, and complained of a headache. That’s what got me; when she started saying “Mommy, my head hurts” over and over, I knew I couldn’t brush that off. So… at about midnight on a Sunday, I took her to the ER. We got in right away, and while we were checking in with the nurse, I realized her fever was totally gone, and I started wondering if she maybe wasn’t as sick as she’d seemed an hour earlier. I was happy, of course, that she seemed better, but there was a small part of me that wanted her to show some symptoms, damn it! Not in a Munchausen sort of way, but I knew that she had been sick an hour earlier, and that she would probably be sick again an hour after we got home- so, show the Dr.’s while we’re here so they can do their job, kid!
The nurse took her temperature and it was a very normal 98.7. REALLY?? I started to get mad at myself. Did I over react? After all, this has happened before with her older siblings when they were babies, and I told myself back then that I wouldn’t jump to conclusions with another sick kid again. I had taken Aurora to the ER as a baby when she seemed to be having trouble breathing during a bad cold, and when we got to the hospital, she too, was “FINE”. Alert and smiley, only a slight fever, and clear lungs. I know it’s better to be safe than sorry, but frankly, I feel bad for wasting the Dr.’s and nurses time, for looking like a loon, AND for costing us over $800 for a dose of tylenol and a nebulizer treatment. So, when Bea threw up some neon green bile in front of the nurse, I couldn’t help but be excited! See? She’s really sick! Then, yes, I realized how insane that was, and continued on with being the awesome mom who wants her kid to be healthy. Which I do, but, like I said; a little green bile barfing doesn’t hurt when I don’t want the Dr’s to think I’m a nutty, overreacting mom. They gave her a popsicle and she was suddenly, totally fine- and even insisted on walking down the hall herself to get her X-rays, all the while clutching said popsicle. Her lungs were mostly clear, and before long, we were sent on our way. Bea with a big, blue popsicle smile on her face. Well played, Bea, well played. I hope you enjoyed your $800 popsicle.