A long night

Ugh. That about sums up our Thursday night this week. When I got home from work, Madelyn was running a temperature of about 102 F. After administering some tylenol which seemed to bring down the temperature a little, we went about our usual evening activities--dinner, etc.--and Madelyn seemed to be doing okay; she was still groggy but generally still smiling and being a little goofy. We got her to go to sleep around seven-ish and thought that would be the end of the story.

Around 9 o'clock or so, Madelyn woke up and this time she really had a temperature going; she was up to 103.7 F. We gave her a little more Tylenol and Erin and I bgan looking at each other and asking ourselves the question: "How hot is too hot?" As usual, we decided to err on the side of caution and at 10:30 at night found ourselves walking into the ER. I told Madelyn that we were going to go show her the finer side of Lafayette. How right I was.

As some of you might know, there are generally two types of people who go to the ER: people who are having heart attacks, have been shot, have been in a car accident or otherwise belong in an episode of ER, and those who have no insurance and utilize the fact that by law ERs cannot refuse treatment. Guess which type of people there are more of out there.

Of course there is a third category of people in the ER; parents who don't know what to do with their sick kids after their pediatrician's office hours--namely Erin and me. After triage, registration and waiting room time, we were brought back to our own little curtain-enshrouded exam station at 11:30 PM. We immediately fell into the common theme of the evening--sit and wait. After being given a once-over by a nurse the ER doctor graced us with his presence.

Now I don't know alot of ER doctors, but I suspect that in a job like that one develops a bit of an ego. In fact I would say that a good sized ego is probably necessary to the job--if you're going to slice, dice and make julienne fries in someone's chest you'd better go in there thinking that you can do no wrong. I also suspect that a side-effect of said ego is viewing certain activities within your job as being beneath you or at the very least not worthy of much excitement and/or concern on your part. In any case, Dr. Moody certainly dd not seemed thrilled to see a baby at midnight sitting in his ER. He quickly asked us a few questions and then disregarded our answers and looked for himself. Apparently the ER sees its fair share of idiots and people should be regarded as such until proven otherwise.

I can see how one might make this assumption. Even though we had a curtain providing a modicum of privacy, we were still able to thrill ourselves with the exploits of several of the other visitors in the ER. On one side of us we had a gentleman who had been chopping wood, missed the wood and chopped his leg instead. He was there for a tetnus shot. A few stalls over was another parent with her two children, one of whom was running a fever as well. This poor kid would be the lucky recipient of a shot or two during our visit and was very vocal about her feelings concerning the shot. We found out that Madelyn hearing other kids crying frightened her and would make her well up faster than as if she had stubbed her toe. However, the true jewel of the ER was the extremely inebriated gentleman who was yelling at anyone and everything that was happening in the ER. His biggest pet peeve apparently was crying children to whom he would shout, "Shut that kid up!!" Apparently, someone had confused the ER with his room at the Hilton.

Meanwhile, back in stall #9, Madelyn, who was showing no other symptoms apart from having a fever, was being given a cathoder to get some urine for a urinalysis. Without any other apparent symptoms such as vomiting or diarreha, a urinary tract infection was suspected. With her tender and loving parents restraining her, Madelyn was "cathed" and demostrated an impressive lung capacity. The urine was sent off for analysis at about 1 AM, and Erin and I unknowingly settled in for a good long wait.

Fortunately for us, a young man was brought in next to us with his girlfriend/sister/mom and began regaling anyone who would listen about the jeep accident he had been in. It seems the jeep had flipped over several times and apart for some kind of nondescript pain, he had survived unscathed. Nevertheless, he was put on some pain medication which apparently immediately kicked in and allowed the young man to describe at length how trippy he felt and how much the overhead spotlight resembled a nipple. Erin and I hung on his every word.

Now, as patient as Erin and I am, around 2:00 AM we began wondering what the hell was going on. I opened our curtain to remind people that we were still back there, and shortly a nurse came by and asked if the doctor had been back by. She seemed a little surprised that he hadn't and this confirmed to me that we indeed had been forgotten there. Another nurse returned after another brief half-hour with a prescription and some walking-papers. No explanation of what the prescription was for, not discussion of what had turned up in the urinalysis, just a "sign here and fare thee well, and don't let the sliding door hit you in the ass on the way out". Erin pressed for a little more information and another nurse was sent over to tell us what had happened with the test--results were unconclusive and the culture would have to be examined.

So at the early hour of 3:30 AM--after a quick stop to fill the prescription-- we arrived at our apartment. Madelyn was sleeping and her parents quickly followed suit.