I'm beginning to think this hotel wants us gone as much as we want to leave. My kids have been sick more often and more intensly here in the past four (yes, FOUR) months probably than in the past year combined. This time it's Porter's turn.
Saturday night he broke into a moderate fever after the big boys had gone to bed. Neither of us slept much that night and in the morning I called for backup so I could take him to the doctor because he was roasting. Kamie picked up my big boys and she and grandma took them to church while I hauled Porter to the clinic. Good thing Ethan and Link weren't with me. When the nurse took Porter's temp it was 105.9! Yikes! His breathing was congested and slightly labored, too, so we proceeded with tests for influenza, strep, etc. When those were negative, the doc sent me to the outpatient clinic for blood work and then on to the radiology lab for chest x-rays to rule out pneumonia or something else more serious.
Good news: All the tests came back negative except some elevations in the blood work.
Bad news: The lab called the doctor this morning at 2:00 a.m. to tell him that Porter's blood was growing bacteria. I got a call at 7:30 this morning asking for a follow-up appointment to monitor Porter.
Interesting observation: I watch too much HOUSE on t.v. I totally broke into tears this morning at the prospect of Porter's bacterial blood infection. Worst case scenarios raced through my head. Maybe that's just because I'm a hormonal mother living in a hotel room with three little boys and no other adults. Poor Greg. It's hard for him to get the reports from a distance.
More good news: Porter's checkup revealed that his lungs are sounding better, his fever is down to 102-ish, and he's less lethargic and more active today, although still quite clingy. We have one more appointment tomorrow morning, but things are looking up. After a shot of Rocephin for nausea and continued oral antibiotics, we are at home resting. Porter had a three hour nap this afternoon . . . a good sign of pending recovery.
On another note, I must report the sweet interpretation of death by my little Ethan. Elaine/Grandma was going to come visit my boys this evening after work so I could make a quick trip to Costco without a sick baby. She called later to cancel, on her way to Sandy to be with her ailing mother who has newly discovered blood clots all through her legs. I told Ethan we'd have to see Grandma another day because her own mommy was sick and might get to go live with Heavenly Father and Jesus soon. His response: "But she'll have to get there on a rocket, right mommy?" He really keeps my perspective in check. I told Elaine what he said, and she tearily told me to tell him yes . . . it would be a wonderful, fast rocket.
Children really are miracles in so many ways.