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Night of explosions
I was getting ready to go to bed at around 11:30 last night. As I checked on Sebastian, he started fussing and moaning. I shushed him, and then heard the fateful cough that all parents know and dread.
"Are you going to throw up, Sebastian?" I asked.
"No," he said, and promptly exploded.
I held on to him and got the bucket in front of his face - too late - while shouting for Teri. She got up and helped with the clean-up. It was a bad one, so we put him in the shower and gave him some children's Tylenol to bring down the fever. He was at 103°.
The bedding all had to be washed, and the mattress itself wouldn't be usable for the night: I wiped it off with damp paper towels and left it to dry.
By the time I was done putting the bedding in the washing machine and rinsing off a hapless stuffed giraffe who'd received the main force of the blast, Teri had gotten Sebastian settled in our bed. It was well after midnight when we all tried to go back to sleep.
But Sebastian was very restless, turning, pushing, and kicking. Eventually I gave up and went downstairs to sleep on the couch. After some weird dreams about Avatar: The Last Airbender I was suddenly woken by lights. My first thought that it was time to get up; my immediate reaction was self-pity, because I'm out of vacation days (I'll accrue more).
But it was just after 4pm, about 90 minutes before I'd normally get up. I groggily went towards the lighted stairs, and sure enough: he'd thrown up again. All over our bed this time. More cleaning, and I don't know if my comforter will survive the necessary washing.
So basically I'm really, really short of sleep.
Teri just called from the doctor's office. They think Sebastian may have strep (the test is processing now), and apparently he has two different kinds of rash. We should know more soon.
"Are you going to throw up, Sebastian?" I asked.
"No," he said, and promptly exploded.
I held on to him and got the bucket in front of his face - too late - while shouting for Teri. She got up and helped with the clean-up. It was a bad one, so we put him in the shower and gave him some children's Tylenol to bring down the fever. He was at 103°.
The bedding all had to be washed, and the mattress itself wouldn't be usable for the night: I wiped it off with damp paper towels and left it to dry.
By the time I was done putting the bedding in the washing machine and rinsing off a hapless stuffed giraffe who'd received the main force of the blast, Teri had gotten Sebastian settled in our bed. It was well after midnight when we all tried to go back to sleep.
But Sebastian was very restless, turning, pushing, and kicking. Eventually I gave up and went downstairs to sleep on the couch. After some weird dreams about Avatar: The Last Airbender I was suddenly woken by lights. My first thought that it was time to get up; my immediate reaction was self-pity, because I'm out of vacation days (I'll accrue more).
But it was just after 4pm, about 90 minutes before I'd normally get up. I groggily went towards the lighted stairs, and sure enough: he'd thrown up again. All over our bed this time. More cleaning, and I don't know if my comforter will survive the necessary washing.
So basically I'm really, really short of sleep.
Teri just called from the doctor's office. They think Sebastian may have strep (the test is processing now), and apparently he has two different kinds of rash. We should know more soon.
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He seems to be feeling okay right this minute, and it turns out not to be strep - apparently it's just a hellacious case of Fifth.
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