Back to CHOA

The continuation of our Target adventure…

Part of the reason I was so frazzled at Target was due to the alarm bells that went off when Hannah spit up. By way of backstory, Hannah hadn’t been eating well since Friday. She was eating – at most – half of each bottle. In addition to that, Target was the third time she’d had an epic spit-up episode. I called the doctor immediately after we left and got in touch with the after-hours nurse. She was very thorough, asking numerous questions about what was going on, had been going on, etc. I thought that she’d tell us to sit tight until the office opened Monday morning, but I wasn’t altogether surprised when she told us to head to the emergency room.

No parent ever wants to be told that their infant needs to go to the emergency room. It’s concerning and upsetting even when you know that it’s a precaution and, most likely, everything is ok.

My first thought was, “My husband is boarding a plane right now.” What was I going to do with L.J.?! I texted my coworker and she immediately texted back and said to bring him over right away. He loves going to her house and playing with her kids, so it worked out perfectly. L.J. is a card-carrying member of the Preschool Pokey Pants Club, but as soon as I mentioned going to Archie’s house he sprang off the couch with an enthusiastic, “Yes! Let’s leave right now!!”

Hannah and I went down to CHOA and were taken back to a room almost immediately. I was expecting an afternoon of poking and prodding and would not have been the least bit surprised if we were admitted. Fortunately, none of that occurred. They examined her thoroughly, did a hospital-caliber cleanout of her nose and did a feeding test to make sure that she would not only eat, but also keep something down.

Poor Hannah was beside herself. After the doctor visits and hospital tests earlier in the week, she screamed at the sight of a stethoscope. She was starving and not allowed to eat until late in our visit. They flooded her nose with saline (purposely) to help clean her out. It doesn’t sound too bad, but it was a lot for an infant who didn’t understand what was going on. I wish I had worn my fitbit; I probably would have hit 10,000 steps just from pacing around the hospital room with her.

Photo caption: Done. D.O.N.E. Miserable and wanting to go home…

She passed the feeding test and was not dehydrated, so at that point they sent us home with instructions to suction often and feed her primarily with Pedialyte. They also said that she wasn’t wheezing and her lungs sounded good, so she didn’t have to keep doing the breathing treatments.

Actually, the instructions were, “If she starts struggling to breathe or refuses to eat altogether, she needs to be seen again immediately.” I still can’t decide if those instructions were helpful or just terrifying.

To be continued again…