The Queen's Rambles

We’ve had a totally insane day. We decided yesterday that we were going to have a good weekend, despite all signs pointing toward total chaos.

Deciding is a great thing, but it doesn’t do a thing for you when circumstances start spiraling out of control.

Elsa still had a fever this morning. I actually took her temp and it was 101.7. Not a tiny little fever to sneeze at after three days of this, but nothing too scary either.

We got in with the doctor and she confirmed that we did the right thing by bringing her in. I am pretty much anti-sick child visits because the only thing they ever say is “it’s a virus, nothing we can do.” Obviously, I am not truly anti-sick child visit. I just don’t find it productive unless the kid is really, really sick or has something like hives (or who knows what, but random ickiness doesn’t seem to require a sick visit).

After an exam, the doctor was left as clueless as me. She has no symptoms other than the fever and she can’t talk yet so there’s just no way to know.

That’s how I left the doctor’s office with a bag taped to my baby’s crotch.

I’d always wondered how they collected urine samples for babies.

Anyway, as soon as the bag had a certain amount of liquid, we transferred it into a sterile cup and took it to the hospital lab. we were told we would just drop it off, but after my last horrible experience at the lab I didn’t quite believe it would be that simple. But we had the specimen! And the orders! Surely it should be simple.

This was happening at noon, so I should have been smart and brought snacks. Instead, our big plan was to go out to lunch after we dropped the specimen at the lab.

The volunteers at the information desk no nothing. They sent me straight up to the lab. Guess what? We had to register. This is a painfully slow process that makes me want to scratch someone’s eyes out.

An hour later and we were on our way. We were all starving and snapping at each other. Erik had a birthday party at 3 so we were feeling a bit of a time crunch. I did have the foresight to bring the gift and a cape, but he really wanted to wear his Indiana Jones costume (it was a costume party) and was not happy that we might not have time to get to it.

We ate at an Italian place called Mama Lucia. Apparently one of Mike’s super picky co-workers says this is one of the only acceptable eating establishments in the DC metro area. The man clearly has something wrong with his taste buds because it was the most disgusting meal I’ve ever eaten. I felt like the recruits from Worst Cooks in America had prepared the meal and I was supposed to judge them. I had plenty of comments from the salad dressing to the marinara. The chicken was overcooked, the sauce was a broth, the marinara was greasy. Ewwww. It was inedible. I pushed my plate aside and when the waiter asked I told him I couldn’t eat it, it was so bad. I know I’m a big complainer on here, but I’m not a big complainer in person (unless you’re my husband or my mother). I’ve never complained about a meal before. I’m glad I did, though, because they took it off the bill. Mike said his meal was fine, but we won’t be adding Mama Lucia’s to our rotation.

Also, the restaurant was not crowded, but they sat us right behind a group of 15 old people having some kind of party. They were LOUD and I was cranky and hungry. It was very cramped and just not a pleasant environment at all.

Luckily we had just enough time to get home, get Erik into his Indiana Jones costume and get him to the party. We were only a few minutes late. It was a drop-off party, so I had an hour to myself! Except for the sick baby, of course.

The lab was supposed to call the doctor with the results, but they never did. Eventually I called the doctor to remind her (she asked me to do so) and she found out they hadn’t processed the sample yet. Once they looked at it they decided the results were inconclusive. If positive, we were supposed to go to the ER to get a cath and some antibiotics. Why the cath? I don’t know.

Our current status is hurry up and wait. If the fever gets above 103 we’re supposed to go to the ER and get her cath’d. I guess taping a bag to your crotch doesn’t give a very clean sample.

If it doesn’t spike to 103, we’re supposed to hold tight until Monday. Hopefully it is just a virus that will pass, but if not they will cath her at the office on Monday. Please, please, please hope for a passing virus. And please don’t tell me you’ll pray for her. I know you mean well, but I find it irritating since I don’t believe in God and if I did I think he should be helping people who are a lot worse off than a feverish first world baby. I sent out my MOMS Club newsletter with a lot less content as usual, with an explanation that I just didn’t have time to do more because of Elsa. A lot of the ladies e-mailed back that they were praying for her. I appreciate it. I do. I understand that’s their thing and they really think it will help. It still rubs me the wrong way. I would never tell them that, of course. They are just being nice. Maybe some day I will share my religious beliefs with them, but it is not on my short term agenda.

And that’s that. My laptop is about out of battery.