Last night Namine had an incredible fever of 103.2. That was under the armpit, too, and we thought that was much too high for what the doctor had called just that afternoon “the tail end of a virus.” To us, it seemed like she was coming down with something else entirely. So we bundled up Namine and headed to the ER – me, Jessica, Namine, and my Aunt CR, who was visiting for the evening. I doubt it was as relaxing as she’d hoped the evening would be.
So Jessica took Namine to the pediatrician this afternoon. According to the doctor, Namine’s fever is the result of a virus. Again. I tell ya, the kid can’t get a break. As a result of the high fever, she doesn’t have much of an appetite. She’s crabby. She’s tired. It’s up to us to make sure she’s well-hydrated. Normally that wouldn’t be a problem; Namine loves water. Loves it. But when she’s feeling so ill, of course she wants nothing to do with anything. Except perhaps Elmo.
Last night Namine had a fever of 101.1. But that was taken under her armpit – she doesn’t quite yet get the whole idea of holding the thermometer under her tongue – and I’ve always been told that you should add a degree to an armpit temp. So make that 102.1. I gave her some Motrin right before bed (I usually do for her feet, anyway), and she fell asleep almost immediately.
Yesterday was a pretty fun day. Jessica, Namine, and I went over to my mom’s house for lunch. My dad went out and got a sled for Namine, and he ran around the front yard with a bundled Namine in tow. (I would have loved to do the towing, but I was stricken with a ginormous migraine.) My mom did most of the picture-taking; I will upload a bunch as soon as I get them from her. But now, it seems, that all fun has passed and we are paying for it, with interest.
Of all the things that we fear above all else, as parents of a post-trach child, is repiratory illness. Pneumonia can be deadly to any child, but if a post-trach child gets it, the most likely end result is a re-traching. (My spell checker is having fits at those sentences, but it also doesn’t think tracheostomy is a word, so to heck with what it thinks.) Namine has a slight cough; she has had it for a few days now, and we’re not sure what’s going on. It’s not common enough to take her in to the ER, but it raises its head often enough to remind us that it’s still there.
We are home from the ER. It was not the longest night we’ve spent there, but it was long just the same. After being there for five hours, we finally got the x-ray results; they came back negative. Namine has not sustained any breaks; the diagnosis is that she is just sore from the fall. Thus, she was discharged and we came home, stopping at McDonald’s on the way.
This evening Namine was in more pain than we’ve seen her in a while. As of late, she’s only needed a dose of Motrin at night, and that’s been sufficient to keep the pain under control. But this evening, she was in so much pain, I needed to give her the hard stuff. You know, the pain meds they prescribed for her when she first had the foot surgery.
Namine is doing slightly better today. She’s still in pain, yes, but she’s showing more of herself, in spite of being groggy from the morphine. She gave kisses today at lunch, and signed “I love you” to me, Jessica, and other family members.
Last night we saw some crusties around Namine’s right ear. No active drainage, but crusties (Give me a break. what word would you use?) are enough of an indication of an infection. So Jessica and my mom took Namine to see her pediatrician this morning.
At least, equipment malfunction. After last night, I’m convinced that’s what happened. Namine slept through the night, oxygen mask strapped securely over her face. The pulseox, on the other hand, beeped, booped, and otherwise alarmed for the better part of the night. Read on for more equipment woes.