Friday, May 7, 2010


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Right out of CSI: Oakland. Simon has a rough night on Wednesday, not handling his overnight feed, retching and barfing every hour and a half. We bring him into bed with us 'round midnight so as to be able to comfort him. Even through my sinus medication haze, I am still painfully aware of how crappy my little man is feeling.

I have no idea how crappy though until I wake up. Jaime has just lef to go to the gym, and it's barely 6am when once again, the little man starts sqauking and waking uncomfortably up. I turn over to discover that he is swimming in his own crap. Liquid poop all over the bed, all over Simon, all over me.

A blow out like I have not seen before. The bed resembles some awful tv show crime scene only now I can truly understand why they're alwasy wearing masks and gloves. Simon, to my dismay, has not yet grasped the defcon 1 situation and goes to rub his eyes and hair with his poop covered arm.

Never before have you seen two people stripped and in the shower so quick.

Poor guy. He's still trying to wake up and I have him soaped up and sputtering before he can even say "diyeeeee" (meaning 'done').

After the latex gloves are firmly on, the bed stripped, and three loads of laundry lined up, we are ready to start our morning.

After arriving late to our audiology appointment (to finish ruling out possible hearing loss), we are promptly sent back to the scheduling desk as they can't test someone that has fluid in his ears. Another ear infection?


Riiiight. Simon has had a cold. I forgot to mention the snot given all of the other body fuids that I was dealing with this morning.

So we arrive early to our early intervention program a little worse for wear but I figure/hope that the singing and familiar play of PIP will settle the boy down.

We're not five minutes into getting settled there that I hear a low rumble come from Simon's stomach and then the tell tale flow and following stench.

I know why they call it the 'runs'. That's what we do to the bathroom where once again I am an ironic imitation of a scene from a movie where the baby has pooped and the Micheal Keaton (Mr Mom) or Eddie Murphy (Daddy Daycare) character is overwhelmed with the clean-up.

This is however, real life and while this technology may be in the near future, smell and touch are never a part of watching said scenes. Sight and sound maybe but even then you can't quite capture the very distinct odor that comes from a rotten baby gut or the special glint that flourescent lights can give off of a slippery poop covered tush.

After cleaning Simon, myself, and the bathroom floor and walls, we are ready to go back to the main play room and see if Simon can hang for some morning singing.

He cannot.

It's not even 10:00 are on our way home again. For sleep, for some Pedialyte and rest.

Five such poops and not really being able to keep down much food bring us to 4:00 and the pediatricians office. I ask her point blank Ass or ears? Which would she like to hear about first.

Turns out there is fluid in his ears but they don't look infected. He does likely have the stomach virus that's been going around.

Pedialyte for the next 24 hours it is.

Pedialyte, plus a rough night, plus a 6 hour nap today, plus no peeing made for a very worried mommy.

It's hard to feel the regualr concerns (is he dehydrated? getting enough fluids? sporting a fever?) and then worrying about the exrtas (will it be ok giving meds with just pedialyte? Is he retaining fluids? How will this interact with his diuretic meds? Do we need IV fluids? what's this one going to do to his heart? I really don't want the present of being in the hospital for my birthday.)

It doesn't help that in the last couple of days there has been all this talk on our Children's Cadiomyopathy listserve about kids that have needed heart transplants after not really showing any symptoms and that it's been children across the board of Cardiomyopathy and not jsut those cases of Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy (where transplant occurs in greater numbers) versus Dilated Cardiomyopathy like Simon has.

Doesn't help at all.

Not one bit.

I don't ever want to go down that road again. That early September weekend was too hard. I don't know how I would do it again.

It's now 5:27pm on this Firday eve and Simon is singing the "Lulu the Clown' song. We will try for a rousing sing along of 'Shabbat Shalom', 4 ounces of Pediasure (not Pedialyte) and see how he does.

Here's to the good night that we all need.


Dawn said...

You guys are inspiring. I just started a silly wee micro-blog, and trying to get into this whole blogging world. What a nice way to start!

(From across the lake),

Fresh Ground Knits said...

love you guys!

Krista said...

Oh, dear. Poor Simon and mommy. You actually told the poop story in a way that was fairly humorous. You guys are really amazing--still maintaining your sanity and grace amidst all this craziness. I hope he is well again soon.

Jen said...

Nothing like some poop to remind you you're alive.

Anonymous said...