P-Neumonia

February 11, 2012

There’s baby feeva and then there’s baby fever. The former is the urge to have more babies and is typically brought on by babies like this:

Miss Lauren Lang
Mister Landon Lang
Mr. Gavin Jones

The latter, or 15 baby fevers in 5 days, negates any baby feeva you thought you migh’ve had.

It all started Friday morning, the day before we were to leave town to visit Bubba’s Babies. Faith woke up clingy. Like, “Mom, please sit here with me while I watch cartoons!” clingy. Usually, she plays by herself and shuts the door to her room on me. When I open it, she looks up from rearranging her babies at me and says, “NO!” Therefore, wanting to sit on my lap while she watches Mickey Mouse Clubhouse was a sign looking back on it. The workday came and went without a call from daycare so I assumed all was well. Little did I know, my mom was up all night Friday fighting baby fever #1. We were still in town at this point, but none the wiser as we saw a movie in that thing they call a movie theatre (almost forgot what that was like) and went to UNMC’s Skate-a-Thon for Parkinson’s.

We left for Kansas City bright and early Saturday morning, and I called my mom to check on Faith after we got on the road. She told me about the fever and I was instantly bummed. She’s had em before and I know she’ll get em again, but fevers are my least favorite! I know they’re a good sign –fighting infection and all that– but they make me very anxious. I told mom to give her Ibuprofen as needed and hopefully it’d go away. I tried to enjoy my weekend as best I could. After all, I got to meet the twins and hang out with my besties.

My favorite thing about this pic is the look Cari is giving Brandon. Those two will make great parents someday.

We even pried the twins’ parents away and went out to eat as a group. Talking to adults can be fun. And eating hot food and drinking a cold beer knowing I don’t have to do the dishes is my idea of a good time. I had the Faith special…

Who knew Macaroni and Cheese could swim….in butter.

 On Sunday, Rob and I ran the Children’s TLC Groundhog Run 5k.

Not for the claustrophobic.
at the start…he beat me by 45 seconds!

Though I was pumped to find an underground/indoor race for January, it was 60 degrees out that day. For our race in KC tomorrow,it will be 7. Oh, how I wish that were a typo.

Anyway, we left town as soon as we were finished. Faith still hadn’t shaken her fever according to my mom and I was ready to hold her in my arms again. When we arrived at “gammy’s” house, Steve told me she was having trouble breathing. Alarm bells went off in my head. I took one look and her and she only half-smiled for a millisecond before I heard it. Pant. Pant. Pant. It wasn’t wheezing, but her breathing was definitely labored. I immediately called the nurse line and took her temp. I think it was 103 or so. I told Rob we needed to get to urgent care, and fast.

Now, I don’t think my husband got the memo about the “fast” part, because in my mind he was driving like an old man-turtle-sloth hybrid the whole. way. there. To his credit, his wife was having a nervous breakdown in the backseat. Seriously, it felt like heartburn and a stomach ulcer. But you’d think that’d make him want to get there faster. I looked into Faith’s eyes and all I saw was, “Help Me.” …. I’m choking up just thinking about it because it just made me feel so helpless.

We got to urgent care, but not before missing the turn, deterring us just long enough for another family to walk in the door 10 seconds before us. I honestly thought about hopping out of the car and running into the building like you would do in the parking lot of a restaurant you know is going to have a wait just to beat the elderly couple to the door. Shameful, I know. But I didn’t and we were stuck in the waiting room. After informing the nurse that she was having issues breathing, they checked her out right away and got us some Tylenol and more Ibuprofen (apparently she could have more than the suggested dosage because of her weight). I’ve never been a Tylenol fan, partly because the first time I called the nurse line to ask about it when Faith was a baby, the woman scared me into worrying about an overdose. Not cool.

Her fever quickly came down from 103.7 to 100.4 with the help of some cold washcloths. An X-ray revealed what the doctor called “atypical pneumonia.” She said a radiologist would read it in the morning to confirm, but prescribed an antibiotic and told us to continue to treat with Tylenol/Ibuprofen. We stopped at Walgreens near the office to pick it up and Faith transformed back into herself. She was still a little pale, but I thought with the antibiotic she was on the road to recovery. Wrong doesn’t even begin to describe it.

We knew her fevers may continue to spike for a couple days, but the docs told us if it didn’t get better in the next 2-3 days, they’d want to see us again. Her fevers continued to reach 103-104 range, giving me heart palpitations and more grey hair every time. The first night, I tried to administer some Ibuprofen to Faith and she wasn’t quite awake enough to take it and threw it all up. She proceeded to get the chills though her skin could’ve cooked an egg. This is the part I wouldn’t wish upon anyone. Watching a 19-month-old kid have the chills is horrifying. And we had to put washcloths on her to cool her off, making it even worse.

But every time her fever spiked, it would come down within an hour and if it totally went away she would return to her happy-go-lucky self. “No, No, Mommy!” This is what fooled us, what tricked us (and the nurses on the nurse line) into thinking she was getting better on the antibiotic. I had a bad feeling about Tuesday night, after Granny Janny and Papa Stevie left our house and Rob went to coach a basketball game, I just couldn’t shake a sense of dread. I put Faith to bed after a dose of Tylenol at 7, but went up to check on her every half hour. By 9, she was ON FIRE. I quickly went through the routine of more Ibuprofen, washcloths, offering water, panicking, again. In the back of my mind, I felt like this shouldn’t still be happening and I was right.

That radiologist who read the X-ray the Monday after our Sunday urgent care visit saw P-Neumonia (as my mom always used to call it) not “atypical pneumonia” or “walking pneumonia.” This means we should’ve received a stronger antibiotic. Or so Faith’s pediatrician informed me Wednesday morning at her appointment.

My mom had taken the day off to spend with Faith since she wouldn’t have been able to go to daycare that day, not being fever free for 24 hours without meds. Mom was hoping it would just be an easy recovery day, maybe take Faith shopping. I never left the house. I couldn’t leave her, even in the very capable hands of my mom. I just knew she was too sick.

Mom was with me when the pediatrician took basically one look at my pale, motionless baby who spiked a fever of 102 right there in the doctor’s office, and told me she wanted to admit her to Children’s. We both got tears in our eyes. We knew she was sick, but for a doctor who has seen hundreds of sick kids to be that concerned confirmed our fears. She wasn’t getting better.

I called Rob and he left school right away and met us at the hospital. After another dose of meds in the doc’s office, Faith perked up again in the treatment room at the hospital waiting to get her IV. That was the suckiest part about this. Every time she momentarily got better, we knew it wouldn’t last, so it was hard to even take pleasure in her bright spots.

After the IV was in, thanks to a brave daddy who comforted his daughter through that, we were transferred to a patient room. It brought back so many memories from Faith’s Intussusception (I hate that I know how to spell that word now without having to Google it).

Here’s the thing about the hospital. You know you’re in good hands, but it means something is seriously wrong. For me, I was happy because for the first time, I finally felt like we’d reached the peak of pneumonia and it could only get better from there. And I was right.

Faith slept from 6 p.m.-7 a.m. the next morning, with one fairly low fever at about 11 p.m. When she woke up, she had another low fever, and we didn’t know it at the time, but PRAISE BE TO GOD, that was the last one.

a glimpse of the girl we know and love…

 My lil “coukie mocker” fan chowed down on cheerios and watched the 100th Sesame Street video in the past few days. The rest of the day is kind of a blur, but we spent most of doing this.

Girl loves watching videos of herself!

 She also had another X-ray to see if the pneumonia had gotten worse. It hadn’t.

On the way to X-ray…

 Since she was eating and drinking so well on her own, we were hopeful that Faith would be discharged soon after her second dose of the antibiotic via IV at 3 p.m. At about 4:30 or so, a random doctor came in and told us that they wanted to keep her overnight. I wasn’t real pleased about this news, but the nights with pneumonia had been so trying I didn’t argue. Rob felt she was doing good enough to go home and I kind of agreed with him, but doctor’s orders are doctor’s orders. We continued to entertain our future UNMC medical student.

 Our pediatrician called around 6 and said she felt Faith was eating and drinking enough to be released. This was great news, but I was hesitant. Those nights were the longest of my life…worse than newborn nights. Not only do you have the lack of sleep going on, but there’s illness and worry to combat. Anyway, our pediatrician said she was a pretty conservative doc, and felt it was fine for us to go home. That convinced me and we went on our merry way, but not before stopping at Walgreens for yet another antibiotic. Being the Nervous Ned that I am, I set my alarm every couple hours to check on Faith just as I had been doing, and it turned out not to be necessary. She stayed fever free that night and has been ever since.

This is what a happy, healthy baby looks like!

 Since her hospital stay, I’ve noticed what a happy kid she is. I just never really had anything to compare it to. Her smile and laugh are brighter and contagious these days. See for yourself.

Thank you all again so much for the prayers, thoughts and encouraging comments during the past two weeks. It means a lot to our family to know so many people care.  We thank you and we love you!

Oh, I didn’t tell you guys Faith can read? Next post 😉 (Thanks for the card, Aunt Donna)!