So this was our weekend...

...a very very bad weekend. At about 3 p.m. on Saturday afternoon , I noticed Adam was warm and took his temperature -- to my shock it was 103.7! He had no other symptoms and was behaving completely normally. I gave him some tylenol and watched him. At 4:30, his temperature was unchanged, so I gave him a little more Tylenol. About an hour later, he had a seizure. If you've never seen one, a seizure, especially in a baby, is a terribly scary thing! It seemed as if it went on for hours, but it was probably 30-45 seconds long. I put him in a cool bath to try and bring his temp down, called the pediatrician, jumped in a cab and went to the nearest emergency room.

Fortunately for us, it was a slow night -- only two people were waiting when we arrived. Adam seemed fine, was talking and very interested in everything in the room. They took us into triage right away, gave him Motrin (his temp was now 104.4!) and sent us back to the emergency room to await our turn. Five minutes later he had another seizure, allowing us to jump the line and rush right in.

It was completely surreal to be running down a hospital corridor with my convulsing son in my arms. At the risk of sounding overly dramatic, he looked so little on the emergency room stretcher.

Apparently, with febrile (fever-related) seizures, it is unusual to have more than one. The second seizure, coupled with the fact that I couldn't tell them with 100% certainty that he'd never had a seizure before, led them to admit him and plan a battery of tests. (The child in the next curtain area in the emergency room is in the same daycare class as Adam. Marcello was also admitted so he and Adam were roommates. )

He received a chest xray and blood drawn in the emergency room and once we got up to a room, they put Adam on IV fluids and antibiotics, with a CAT scan and an EEG to be scheduled. He flat out refused to go into the scary cagelike crib, so we spent the night trying to sleep as best we could in an uncomfortable hard leather recliner in the room.

The CAT scan was scheduled for Sunday, but there was no one in the hospital on a weekend who could do an EEG. Being strapped down and having your head immobilized when you don't understand what is happening must be terrifying. Once the scan started, however, and lights started flashing, he was fascinated and all crying and struggling ceased.

Once Adam went down for a nap on Sunday, I realized I needed to go home to my poor long-suffering dog and feed and walk her -- we ran out of the house for the hospital and had been gone 17 hours at this point. As I prepared to leave, I had the sudden realization that I er... didn't exactly know where I was. I've never been hospitalized in the city where we live and didn't know really know where the nearest hospital was. The pediatrician gave me the name of the hospital on the phone, we jumped in a cab and off we went. It was dark. I was a little distracted! LOL! I had no idea if, when I exited the hospital, it would be easy to hail a cab. The security guard at the front desk took pity on me -- after eyeballing me a little warily -- and called me a cab. Let me just say here that my dog is the BEST dog in the world -- with a bladder of steel. She had not gone to the bathroom in the house while we were gone. I took a quick shower, fed and walked her and took a cab back to the hospital.

Being in the hospital is stressful and boring enough as an adult, but impossible for a two-year old! There was a little playroom on the floor, but their choices of toys was questionable for a hospital. There was a small ride-on wooden horse with wheels, and an Elmo lawnmower. Picture two parents, running down the hospital hallway wheeling IV poles trying to keep up with the two two-year olds so they don't pull their IVs out!

I have to give Adam credit -- he was a trouper 90% of the time. Except for blood draws, he was a suprisingly cooperative and charming patient. He spent a lot of time hanging out with and entertaining the nurses. He and Marcello played nicely most of the time...a few skirmishes over toys here and there, but nothing out of the ordinary.

The neurologist showed up for the consult at 11 p.m Sunday night. 11 p.m.! And he was....hmmm....how shall I say it? A character? No, that's not quite it....perhaps I'll use a term used by several of the nurses -- a wacko. At 11 p.m., he stood in the hall outside our room and bellowed "Room 406! What is your name?" Mind you, we were sound asleep in our uncomfortable chair at the time. I roused myself and responded and he burst in the room, turned on the lights, dragged up a chair, and the consult started. As he explained, his "style" was not to just ask questions, but to have an entire conversation about many things, from which he would discern the information he needed. Sigh. I was too tired to argue, and felt desperately in need of his diagnosis, so we talked about my beautiful skin and how he couldn't believe I was 49; how when I change Adam's diaper I shouldn't use diaper wipes, but should hold him under running water (give me strength); how surprised he was that the Vietnamese would allow the "imperialists" to adopt their children and on and on.... (And how lovely for the other sleeping family to have to listen to this whole production in the middle of the night.)

Finally, he said that Adam has what is called Complex Febrile Seizures. He put him on phenobarbitol and said he thinks he should be on it for two years and that children generally outgrow these seizures by 5 or so. (The ER physician had told me if you have to have seizures, these are the "best" kind to have as they are not neurological in nature and don't indicate a deeper problem.)

By the time the neurologist left (one of the nurses said I should be glad he didn't show up at 2 a.m. as he sometimes does!) Adam had fallen back asleep and they didn't want to wake him for the phenobarbitol, so gave it to him when he woke up again around two a.m. The nurse told me the EEG was scheduled for 11 a.m. so I should wake Adam up at 5 a.m. (!) so he would be tired by 11 as he needed to be asleep for the test. Sigh. How can they possibly expect a child would sleep through such a thing?

I refused to wake him up at 5 as he was so exhausted and knocked out from the medication. I finally woke him around 6:30. The EEG technician showed up at 8 a.m.! ARGH! She said she'd try again around 11a.m. The nurse gave Adam his medication accordingly, and called the EEG technician when he fell asleep around 10:45. And called again when she didn't show. And again. What time did she come? 12:30. An EEG requires a large number of electrodes to be attached to the head and she spent about 20 minutes attaching half of them when....of course...he woke up. And that was the end of that. She said she'd try again at 2, but I told her that was ridiculous, that there was no way he'd be asleep again at 2. Very frustrating!

At this point, the EEG was all we were waiting for and I really couldn't see spending another night in the hospital on the chance that he would be -- and stay -- asleep for the test.

The nurses, who were beyond excellent, told me that this hospital's pediatric unit was very small and only had a limited number of equipment. She said there is another EEG machine that does not require children to be asleep but they do not have it. She recommended we get it done elsewhere on an out patient basis. Adam was discharged about 3 p.m. Monday. I kept him home Tuesday, just because I was a nervous mama, and he very happily went back to daycare on Wednesday.

Turns out his pediatrician has a pediatric neurologist in their practice, so we are going in for a followup tomorrow and to schedule the EEG.

Do I get to have my nervous breakdown now?