4 hours in the ER with a 102 degree fever. Ouch. The roughest ride we've had so far in terms of getting stuck in the 'hospital' turnaround. That's the way it goes sometimes. Francine was over for dinner and the Celtics game, so she was with us. Tony saw the blog post about going to the hospital, and raced straight over to keep us company. He got an escort to our ER room from a giant security guard, who, in so many words, told us we were not allowed to have a party in the room. Only two guests allowed, or somethin' like that.
The party was good, until the medical stuff started happening. To put a finer point on it, the nurse who mis-accessed the port twice and then couldn't get it to work. In all fairness, she has a tough job, and she did the best she could.
Still, it hurt Pablo (a first), and was frightening for Francine and I, cos we knew it was a botched job just from looking at it. Usually, the nurses access the port like they're plugging in a toaster–straight in...one, two, three...there's a grace and purpose to their every move. Didn't go down that way on the first try tonight. This was a case of the Needle And The Damage Done. And now we know a little bit more about how to vet the nurse who's going to stick him. We shoulda known when she asked us what size needle to use.
This is why it's always good to be politely assertive and clear with the hospital staff before they touch Pablo. Tonight, I was somewhere between 'politely assertive' and 'grumpily clear' with the charge nurse. The quivalent of a rock and roll tour manager or a line producer. Not my fave way to be. But, then, I've never seen my son get stuck like a pin cushion to no avail. And I do think anyone jabbing needles in children–my children–ought to be qualified to do so. "Ooops" is not a word I want to hear in that sitch. So...I wasn't comfortable or happy, and I found the person in charge that's the truth. Oh, and I'm a Taurus. So that absolves me, no?
The only thing that really matters is that P's numbers checked out, and we are finally home.
PLUS, Grady's home from Costa Rica!!!!! Jo Ann brought him straight from LAX to the ER. Then he did some damage at McDonalds, with Tony as his guide. I'm hoping that Tony will remember his MickeyD rendezvous with Grady when he is producing G's first album. Grady's not in a band yet, but he will be eventually, for sure. Although, come to think of it, Tony and Butch might get into a fight over who's gonna produce Grady's band (long, funny story that I won't get into here...).
Awwwright. I am seeing (and talking) double. Haven't been up this late in a looooong time.