Two months ago marks the one-year anniversary of my daughters emergency surgery. It was by far the hardest day of my life so far. It is still hard to believe at just over 2 years old, she had a twisted ovary and needed emergency surgery! My mommy instincts have been on high alert ever since. Maybe to the point of jumping to conclusions too fast!
On the 6 month anniversary of her surgery, she threw up a few times and was complaining that her tummy hurt. I let the idea slide for a good 6-8 hours before I started to panic. I pushed on her lower abdomen and she cringed, curled up into a ball and started to cry. Instantly I went and grabbed my husband, who was packing to leave the country the very next day! He was not as concerned as I but agreed that I should go ahead and take her back to the hospital. Better safe than sorry, right?
Well, after a long wait and an even longer ultra sound as well as blood work and urinalysis, everything came back clear. She was a bit dehydrated, tired and still in some pain. It was chopped up to being a stomach bug, but because of her past, they insisted we stay the night; now time for the chaos! My poor husband had to come to the hospital with my emergency over night bag and some clothes for me, visit and then he had to go home. He had to take care of the animals and get his things ready.
I am actually glad we had to stay the night. She had a fluctuating fever all day and at about 2am she needed to go potty. I went ahead and took her, and then called for the nurse to check her temperature immediately, she was burning up. Her temperature was just over 103. They gave her some Tylenol and in an hour, there was NO change. They ended up bringing in ice packs and laying them over her arms and legs and under her armpits as well as a cool wet rag on her head. That was a bit scary, and if I had been home, we may have ended up rushing her to them in the middle of the night anyway.
We were luckily released early the next morning, just as my husband showed up with coffee and breakfast for me. We had time to get home and have a little over an hour or so to relax before taking him to the airport. Unfortunately, just as we pulled into the airport, she vomited all over herself in the car. He had to kiss her goodbye with only wet wipes to clean her face first, but, daddy is brave. She was carsick and starting to run another fever so I had to get her home.
Luckily, it was just a bug. After some more rest and more Tylenol, she was a happy camper by the next day. Honestly, some think I jumped the gun…expecting the worst. Others agree that I needed to trust my mommy gut and get her checked out. I feel that if you question their condition in any way, go have them checked out. It’s better that way. That’s how I go about it now. If there is any question in my mind that she is not well and I may not be able to help, go get her checked out.
Until Next Time,
The Not-So-Single Mom
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