On Friday morning, quarter of six if you want to get right down to it, Josh was staggering around our room moaning and holding his side.
He was like some sort of suffering beached sea creature. I mean really if he had told me had been shot I would have believed him, although I don't know why because we don't have a gun and live in a nice neighborhood.
He was in some serious pain.
After a lot of "whatdowedo? whatdowedo?" Josh jumped in the shower and I began calling people (sorry if you were one of them) to see if anyone could come over and watch Pman while I took J to the hospital. A couple minutes after I heard the water from the shower turn off I see Josh coming down the steps dressed for work. He thought it was just a muscle thing or was a bruised something from rugby the night before.
Yes he still goes to practice. I just can't fight about it and he's an adult so it's his choice.
Thinking the hot water cured the muscle crap, Josh headed off to work. Thirty minutes later I get a call from the local hospital. It's Josh. On his way to work he made a pit stop to the ER where he was diagnosed with kidney stones.
Without getting too graphic; one stone has passed Saturday afternoon, it is Josh's believe there is another one floating around and waiting to make an appearance. He has drugs. He has beer. This too shall pass.
THEN- Saturday morning, pre-stone passing, Josh was in pain and frankly quite irritable, so P and I went to the gym with hopes of getting a smoothie post work-out. SweetP loves gym smoothies.
While I was working out, Pman was in the gym day care moaning "mama" and then fell asleep on the day care lady's shoulder. He fell asleep IN the day care with scream kids and crying babies.
SO unlike him.
He was not interested in the smoothie.
SO unlike him.
He threw up in the car twice in the 8 mile drive home from the gym.
SO unlike him.
His fever was 103.1. I gave him Tylenol and he took a nap while I held him. While P slept, Josh passed a stone. Then Pman woke up, ate a whole piece of pizza and was bouncing around. Thinking we were on the upswing of a weird 24 hours, we went out to enjoy the nice day.
Around 4p.m. we returned home and it happened- Pman puked again, bringing the total to 4. I gave him Motrin and took his temp- 104.1. After a quick conversation with Parker's doctor, we headed to the ER- again. We left in a hurry forgetting my wallet and Josh's stone medicine.
That makes 2 ER trips in 2 days.
The doctors and nurses and techs worked quickly on Pfunk- taking his temperature, administering a suppository of Tylenol, starting an IV and 2 chest x-rays. Once the IV was started they put a little velcro cast on his arm that made it immobile and nearly impossible for him to rip out the needle and tubes. No matter how many dinosaur stickers they slapped on that thing Pman HATED it. Thankfully I was allowed to sit on the bed with him, which helped us both. Eventually, CheezIts and fruit snacks made P happy again.
For me though, the jargon, the rushed air in the room, the tears- it all brought back a time I like to forget or at least like to think about and reflect on in the privacy of my own space.
I had to will myself to not lose my shit right there because I could have very easily. That scene was, well is, familiar to me.
After a bit the doctor came in and said, “Parker has Pneumonia.” A mild case, but pneumonia. Armed with discharge papers, instructions and a prescription, we headed home. I hope it is a long long time before we return to the ER. I'll be fine if I never return.
You may be wondering where Josh was in all of this- he was moaning and wandering around the ER like a mental patient. Being crabby to strangers and trying to get someone- anyone in scrubs to give him something to numb the pain of the second stone that was doing Nascar laps through his insides.
Oh, Pman I can't wait for your bounce back to kick in- something tells me that won't take long.