“We’re taking her to the hospital” – the words no parent wants to hear
I naively assumed Wednesday 31st May 2017 would be the first and last time we’d be at the hospital with Roma. Then we had to return the day after we were discharged due to a lack of poo taking place, which thankfully didn’t last for long as the gates were soon opened.
But that was it. We were done with trips to the hospital or so I thought / hoped / prayed / willed et al. And we had a good run for the past 20 months too – then just as I was finishing up at work on Tuesday, my mum, who was looking after Roma at the time, called to say she was acting out of character.
I didn’t actually notice my phone ring at first but after seeing a missed call from the old dear, the missus and my voicemail in quick succession, I couldn’t help but panic. My mum said although Roma was fine during the start of the day she suddenly became really withdrawn. She was disinterested in food, drinks and even the tablet, the latter of which was the real alarm bell, had a raised temperature and was groggy.
So of course based on that report I was heading to my parents’ straight from work. En route though and my mum was calling again, this time to say the words: “We’re taking her to the hospital.” Her and my old man had called the paramedics and told they had a two-hour wait on their hands, so decided to take Roma to A&E themselves. I immediately diverted to the hospital to meet them.
I arrived minutes after them to see my little lady was unrecognisable from her usual self – not talking, playing or smiling – which would have made it abundantly clear something was wrong, even if her temperature hadn’t spiked to 40°C.
After a couple of hours of being there, our little mischievous chatterbox had resurfaced without warning and the difference between her on arrival and after being there was beyond belief. Apparently the doctors were convinced too. Since her temperature had gone down, we were sent home thinking all was well.
That is, until I woke up in the morning with a human furnace laying on top of me. Roma’s fever and lethargy had returned and seemingly doses of Calpol and naps weren’t enough, which prompted a return to A&E.
After five hours and more examinations including a urine sample to follow on from the blood test the night before, which ruled out anything truly heinous, the conclusion from the ear and throat check determined it was a viral infection. The doctor assured us it would pass in two to three days as long as she stays dosed on Calpol and Nurofen, so we were released once more.
Thankfully this time her temperature has stayed down, her appetite has returned and so has her energy. And there’s no question I’ll have her eating food from my plate and using me as a climbing frame than the alternative any day.