And the Monster looks right back...

           So I haven't posted in a week and half.  Mostly because I am Busy with a capital B, gifts and cards and baking,  but also because I was a bit lazy I think.  But today, sigh, oh today, I will have hours to post.  Mostly because I am sitting in an ER waiting for the ambulance to bring in Feisty Pants from school.  Ambulances seem quick, but there are forms to fill and sign and their top priority is getting the patient to the hospital safely, so it takes longer than you think.

            Feisty Pants seemed ok, but with a slightly runny nose, this morning.  Not unusual for her. But within an hour of getting there, her sat rate dropped and her temperature spiked.  To effing 105.  So the school called us, then 911.  We grabbed a taxi and are now sitting here in the ER waiting room doing just that. Waiting. I hate waiting. It's always so much worse in my head than in real life.  And Feisty Pants is adventure enough without my imagination/anxiety adding it's two cents. She can go from fine to omg call the paramedics in a few hours.  Today she beat that record.  Fine to oh shit in an hour  flat. I am sure she has scared the nurse and her teacher too.   They haven't seen her pull such a 180 turn before.              

            Well now it's hours later. I was interrupted by the arrival of the Feisty Pants express. And as I expected,  a very stunned nurse. She had never seen Feisty Pants pull the omg trick before.  Sigh. We have. Too many times.  Today's version was fine to fever of 105 in an hour. So far they have done the x-rays and the blood cultures.  They have filled the forms and started the IV.  Started the antibiotic and given something for pain and fever.   Then gave something to "help her relax and maybe sleep" HA. HAHAHA.  Not going to happen folks. FP hates ambulances and hospitals and medical personnel.  Right now she is not even too sure about Goo and I. And so we spent the morning listening to her complain.  About her pain. About the needles.  About the fact that we couldn't leave. Six hours later and she is still complaining.  I don't blame her one bit.  I'm ready to pull up a seat and help her sing the blues.  Her father has been awake 24 hours and is singing his own blues.  We are in a good place.  They are doing all the right things.  She will mend and the fact that she has strength to bitch nonstop is a great sign.  But I gotta be honest.  Today sucks. Watching your kid be sick and in pain never ever ever gets better.