This blog post comes earlier than expected – we had an eventful week.
9 days ago Floyd had a sore on his leg. Dad took him to the doctor – she removed a splinter. In the following days the bottom half of his leg blew up. By the weekend, we called the doctor to the house, who told us to get him to the hospital. He was admitted last Sunday night. 2 hourly IV antibiotics, dad with him 24/7 – camping on an armchair next to his bed. I couldn’t stay with him so it was left to dad – 2 other girls at home plus a baby still feeding. At the time I was pretty upset. My tune soon changed to I had dodged a bullet.
Picture caging a wild animal, and that sums up the stay. Technically he was unwell – in reality nothing was going to keep this kid down.
Every time I visited, which was 2-3 times a day – I heard “he’s active isn’t he?” You think? Not sure if it was the constant buzzing of the emergency button sending nurses and doctors running into the room. Or the leaping off the tables and chairs in the playroom every 30 seconds. Or was it the running down the hallways and into everyone’s rooms constantly that made it obvious?
He had a cannula in his arm where they were administering his meds – the nurse told me most kids are cautious about bumping it. Not him. Jumping, leaping, rolling, whacking it. He was wheeled around in wheelchairs like a celebrity, and had every nurse fall in love with him.
Our house has never been so quiet this week – or tidy. He drives us all to the brink of insanity, but when he’s not here we all miss him like crazy. I found Miss 6 curled up in his bed night 3, hugging his Captain Barnacle.
We got our mini terror back tonight.
And I’ve never been so glad to put him to bed and read him a story.
Our first hospital trip, and hopefully our last for a while.
Fingers crossed 🙂