This past weekend, as those of you who follow the Mama Pea Pod facebook page may know, was rather eventful in the Pea household. Poor Princess Pea caught a horrible gastrointestinal virus that caused her to throw up everything in her body, and couldn't even keep down a single sip of water for more than a minute. Concerned about her inability to take in any liquids, we called her paediatrician. She recommended that we bring her to the hospital for an IV, which would definitely help her, but mentioned there was also an option to get some kind of suppository from the pharmacy that may work, but may not. Not wanting to be extreme and go straight to the most invasive form of treatment, we opted to try the medicine first. Daddy Pea and Sweet Pea headed off to the 24 hour pharmacy to get it, but while they were out, Princess Pea's condition deteriorated. After throwing up yet again, she lay across my arms on the bathroom floor, head flopping back and eyes rolling in her head. As I held her, I knew in that instant that no matter how traumatic it might be for her, we had to take her to the hospital for the IV.
I knew she was really sick because she didn't cry or complain about anything.
I knew she was scared of the needle, but she barely whimpered as they put in the IV line. She watched as they injected something, drew vials of blood for the lab (something I could never bear to see), and hooked everything up. My sweet 4 and a half year old was so brave!
Within 15 minutes she noticeably improved. She perked up and began to speak. She asked questions about what the nurses were doing. She asked questions about the hospital room. In another hour or so, she was admiring the splint on her hand, placed there to hold it still so she wouldn't knock out the IV line.
After 2 days and one night in the hospital, she was released and we were able to come home. We received countless messages from friends, family, and many of you wishing her well - thank you!
Many commented to me that it must have been so scary for her, and for me as her mother. I know it was scary for her, but she was so brave it barely showed. But interestingly enough, and contrary to what I would have expected, it wasn't really scary for me. Scary isn't the right adjective to describe it. I never doubted for a moment that she would be alright - thankfully it wasn't a serious illness, as many families must face. So I can't say that I was scared. But it was painful. It was painful to take her to a place that we knew would scare her, to have a procedure that we knew would hurt. It was painful to hold her arms still as the nurses inserted the tube. It was painful to see her little body in that great big, adult-sized hospital bed, hooked up to the IV. But most of all, it was painful to see her on the bathroom floor, barely conscious as she lay in my arms.
In the end, her experience was a positive one. She acknowledged right away that she was feeling better because of the IV. The hospital facilities were very nice, certainly luxurious by Hungarian standards, and she commented that it was like a hotel because there was a number on the door. She received excellent care from helpful and caring nurses. She got to watch lots of movies, read lots of books, and play lots of board games. And she had a wonderful doctor who was kind and gentle and seemed very glamourous to a 4 and a half year old Princess because she wore high heels and could be heard coming down the hallway.
This experience reminded me about all the families out there, including some we know, who do have to face serious illnesses in their children, who don't have the positive experiences we had, and who don't all have happy endings. It reminded me that we are very fortunate indeed.
|Back home again and right back into it|