Wednesday, May 6, 2009

To ER is human

Picture Mom and Dad, giving me a dropper full of vitamins after dinner. They stick the dropper in the side of my mouth and drizzle out the sticky, gooey vitamin syrup just like I was a ferret.  You know what happens when you stick something yummy-tasting in my mouth.  That's right, I suck on it.  Only this dropper doesn't dispense through a tiny aperture like a nipple; the whole end is open.  The syrup all came whooshing out at once and I must have gasped because I might have inhaled some.

There was a bit of hacking and coughing and blah blah blah.  I was still a bit wheezy, but give a girl a break: I had treacle in my trachea.  Mom and Dad called up the advice nurse, who wanted to know if they could wake me.  Hello?  Did I mention I had eaten dinner?  Nothing short of amputation wakes this girl after a good feed.

They did wake me, but instead of my customary full-throated cry, all I managed was an indignant snort.  The advice nurse told Mom she could reattach the limb in the car as Dad drove us to the Emergency Room.

Let me tell you, if you want to be seen fast in the ER, there's nothing like the magic words, "The baby has trouble breathing."  But my blood oxygen was good, and by the time we saw the doctor a few minutes later I sounded okay.  After we showed I could scream, poop and eat, he sent us home.

Mom says I get my vitamins stirred into milk now.

Bonus points: The ER nurse read my weight the same as it was when I was born, 9 oz recovered in 6 days.  My other achievement today was my first wet diaper with no poop in it.  I'm getting better at digesting milk solids.

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