Several Forum regulars know this from FB, but it's about time I post about last Sunday. And last weekend, in general.

On short notice (10 days) my wife was sent to a conference in Seattle that was sort of tertiary to her responsibilities at work. The conference began on Sunday morning, so a Saturday departure was necessary. She had a red-eye scheduled for Tuesday night, landing here Wednesday morning. Well, I went into this with a good attitude. I knew we could do this. The sleep schedule is stable and we're all getting along. No sweat.

As has been my habit, I decided that I could brew some beer while the boys were napping with periodic visits each direction. I called in some help and a friend came by to help. So that went pretty well on Sunday. I got the boys to bed while chilling the wort.

Then things let loose. Duncan started screaming his poor head off. I charged into the boys' room. Duncan's face was covered in semi digested hot dog and other nastiness. The room stank. I tried to calm him down while cleaning him up. Yanked the blanket off the bed to discover that it held the vomit away from the rest of the bedding. But Duncan couldn't calm down and was close to waking his 5 month old brother. So I took him downstairs to the living room. Holding him, he puked on me once but that was quickly followed by projectile vomiting aimed at my face. That's Daddy Love for you.

I wiped us up, got him cleaned up as much as I could and called my wife. I knew that I needed to take Duncan to the ER just in case something was very wrong. But I didn't want to take the baby with me. I had her call her dad and ask him to come over to listen for Tristan waking up, which shouldn't happen. He came over just after I got us redressed. Duncan seemed a little better but had fits of screaming that sent us out the door.

I got him into the ER at a hospital in town that has called itself a Women's and Children's Hospital. On the way out the door, I got him a sippy cup of water to hopefully help calm his tummy. Well, on the way, he drank nearly the whole cup and then sprayed it down himself and my SUV's seats. So, I carried a drenched, smelly toddler into the hospital about midnight.

We got the preliminary stuff done and got into a room. The TV had the Cartoon Network as their only children's channel. Apparently no one from the hospital staff has seen Adult Swim. So, the TV didn't serve as a distraction. Duncan was frightened even more than he was sick. the nurses made visits and then the doctor came in. He did the usual analysis and then said that there was no way to get around an IV to fill the little guy back up with fluids. So he sent the two guy nurses in and they went into action.

They first told me that I'd probably want to leave the room, but I stayed. One guy got up on the bed and prepared to restrain my son. The other got the tools out and when all was ready, I handed Duncan over and held onto his leg, hoping to sooth him through the painful procedure. That's something that will take a long time to leech out of my memory. The took some blood samples from the stint. To keep the IV in place, they had to tape a towel around his arm to keep him from bending his elbow. It went quickly, but was very traumatic.

That done, they left for a minute or two and one came back to hook up the fluids and administer an antinausea drug. He suggested that instead of staying in that room, we could go into a lobby that isn't open at night. It has a fish tank, vending machines and couches. So, we spent the next hour in there, Duncan finally falling asleep about 45 minutes in. His blood tests came back and everything was ok. So we were released.

Got home, sent grandpa home and after rolling Duncan into his bed, I collapsed into my own. I had already scheduled to take the boys to their grandpa's for part of the day so I could either do some gardening or housework. Well, I ended up using that time to clean up the couch where I was sitting when he projected himself on me and getting the nasty clothes and bedding through the laundry.

Just a nasty night. I called my wife with updates along the way. She was beside herself, of course. But we got it taken care of and he was perfectly fine for his eval with the doctor on Wednesday. It was probably something he ate. It's hard to tell after the fact.

So, my wife made it home with only one delayed flight. Met us at the doctor's office just after we had gotten out. And all's been fine since.

Oh, and the beer looks good.

Glad to know there was nothing seriously wrong. Sounds like you handled it well.

Holding him, he puked on me once but that was quickly followed by projectile vomiting aimed at my face. That's Daddy Love for you.


IN THA FACE!.... IN THAA FAAAACE!<The Hangover reference> Sorry, It's what popped into my head when I read this. It's all about the story value. Now when he gets older you can say "Remember that time when you blew hot dog chunks in my face? Good times."

Misery loves company, so I enjoyed reading your post. Maybe enjoyed is too strong a word. Appreciated it, let's say.

The IV story sounds really tough, particularly in contrast to the treatment we got at Dell Children's here in Austin.

Cooper had a broken and deformed arm, but he was still deathly afraid of getting shots. Kids are funny that way. At Dell, they smoothed a local anesthetic cream on his arm, then laid a transparent dressing over it. The nurse came back after 10 minutes, and inserted the IV, pain free. He was still anxious, but it didn't hurt. Good thing. He'd had trauma enough.

The IV story sounds really tough, particularly in contrast to the treatment we got at Dell Children's here in Austin.

I don't know that anyone (skilled) would have done differently with a squirming 2 year old. He was much more scared of being restrained than the insertion. Had they done that with the anesthetic cream and bandage, he'd have gotten the cream everywhere, including his mouth, and the sticker would be picked at. Better to do it quick at this stage and get it over with than have to restrain him for ten times as long. That would have led to hysterics.

I can't imagine what we'll run into in the coming years. Just a simple visit to the farm has him out-pacing fleets of adults. Five of us chased him for three hours on Friday. It wasn't until the end that he slowed down enough to be put in his stroller. Most of the places he wants to go are highly dangerous and easy for a child to access. Running with the bulls isn't something for a toddler.