Part six: Channeling Job

Part six of a seemingly endless series about what is turning into a seemingly endless hospital stay.  Scroll down for parts 1-5.

            Gloria Gaynor was not so successful on Friday, but at some point the next day, when nothing else would calm Lilah, I tried again.  She was attached to a fluid drip, oxygen, and a monitor, so the dancing was pretty subdued, but I did discover that singing “I Will Survive” while bopping along is particularly calming for her, while “Puff the Magic Dragon” seems to piss her off.  Mark that as “file away for future reference.”

            And, so, we spent the weekend in the hospital.  Eventually, they took her off the fluid drip so that she would nurse more, which was a relief because she was not taking her usual amount and so I was pumping to keep up my supply.  The Snot Culture came back positive for RSV, so they took her off antibiotics because clearly the problem was viral.  Unfortunately, this meant they also needed to institute masks and gowns for everyone entering our room so as not to spread the RSV to other patients.  Again, very dramatic.  It was like being in The Andromeda Strain.

            J came home early from work on Friday and picked up Zachary from his friend’s house.  He ordered them pizza for dinner, packing away the leftovers to be eaten on subsequent nights.  He rented them a video Saturday afternoon once I had pointed out that this just might be an extreme enough situation to relax the “one program a day” television rules.  Because it was becoming just that sort of a weekend, J also took them out for ice cream Saturday night, which is when he discovered the flat tire.  Conveniently, we live around the corner from Pep Boys.  Less conveniently, Pep Boys couldn’t fix it and this particular problem needed the dealer.  Which would be closed on Sunday.  And my car was in the lot at the hospital, fifteen minutes away from our house.

            “Everything for tomorrow is cancelled,” he declared on the phone, which seemed to me a bit extreme, given that we had a perfectly good car sitting five floors below me.  “Nothing scheduled tomorrow is essential.”  That, actually, depends upon one’s perspective.  To the adults, swimming lessons and a birthday party are skipable, but Zachary had been planning for his friend’s celebration all week.  Come hell or high water, he was getting to that party.

            I started calling people, but strangely, people weren’t picking up their phones at 8:00 on a Saturday night.  Finally, I caved.  I called Wanda. I hadn’t wanted to, because we call her for everything, and I worry she is starting to feel like the Favor ATM.  She had already helped out several times in the past few days.  But, these were desperate times, and we were beginning to wonder whether we were God’s Favorites.  Wanda – my hero – went to our house to stay with the boys while J took a cab to the hospital to retrieve my car.

            Yes, 9:00 on a Saturday night, after having the boys to himself all day, after leaving work early in the midst of a very busy Friday, after being whined at all afternoon, while his baby was in the hospital, after adding insult to injury with the fucking flat tire, my husband took a cab to the hospital so he would have a car for the next day.  So that his son would not miss a birthday party. 

           Someday, dude, someday Zachary will appreciate just how much you love him.

16 responses to “Part six: Channeling Job

  1. oh… this story! it is breaking my heart.

    you are a good, good mommy.

    and I will Survive is my favorite Karaoke song. I know, me and a gazillion other people. oh well.

  2. This is just such an amazing story. How you are so careful with your boys’ feeling even in the midst of crisis at the hospital. Amazing.

  3. I absolutely love the image of three women and one very angry baby mini-wrestling to the strains of I Will Survive. Also, thanks for the heartwarming stories about your medical staff – those overworked folks get puked on, peed on, shouted at all day long and still can look at a tired, terrified mum and know she needs a bite to eat? That was way more than some cookies or a chicken sandwich, that was a gift of humanity when it was most desperately needed. Beautiful.

  4. Crazy, crazy. I’d say you guys have completely exceeded your life quotient of excitement and drama. No more! And that’s an order (are you listening, universe?)

  5. how, how you manage to write about this with such composure and humour i don’t know.
    hope things get better REALLY soon!

  6. Oh my Emily – I hope this series gets to an end pretty soon. And I hope Lilah is responding well to treatment!

  7. She didn’t like Puff the Magic Dragon? Oh no….
    My favorite for cranky babies was You are My Sunshine. I don’t know why, it just comes out while I rock

  8. Alex gets pretty irate when I try and sing any verse of the Wheels on the Bus to him, IF he’s already pissed off.

    Kids are goofy. And YOUR kids are some of the luckiest kids I know.

  9. My goodness! Your disaster-y life is starting to sound like mine! Did you steal my black cloud? (if so, thank you, and sorry)

    Hoping it gets better soon, and we definitely need to do coffee when all this is over!

  10. this is quite beautiful, friend.

  11. Third child or not, flat tire on top of everything else or not, you are both really great parents.

    Your wee ones are lucky to have you.

    Now hurry up and finish the story!!!

  12. Hooray for Wanda!

    And hooray for you, Mommy and Daddy of the year. You’re doing an amazing job under incredible stress.

    Boo, however, for The Andromeda Strain-like suiting and the need for it at all. Here’s hoping your Gloria G. fan is home soon.

  13. Good Jeebus–I stop reading for a few days and your whole world turns upside down. Here’s hoping L makes a speedy recovery!

  14. Ack! Look what happens when I avoid my reader. I hope you are having better times. And sleeping. Oh dear.

  15. Hope Zachary had a REALLY good time at that birthday party.

    Someday, mama, someday your daughter will appreciate just how much you love her— dancing and singing Gloria Gaynor in a hospital gown.

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