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TJ wasn’t himself tonight. I thought he was just tired from not sleeping well last night. When he didn’t want to eat dinner, I figured it was because he’d eaten a really big lunch.
An hour before bedtime, he was very whiny and very clingy. Half an hour before bedtime, I asked him if he wanted to go to bed. He said yes. Then he said no. Then he said he hurt. Then Tom said, “Does he feel hot to you?”
Ear thermometers always make TJ scream, but I’m sure he’d be even less thrilled if I used a rectal thermometer. His temperature was 101. That worried me because he and I both run low on the body temperature scale; 98.6 is a very low grade fever for us.
As we were trying to get some Children’s Advil Suspension into him, he started the cough. The cough that you know is going to lead to something much worse. I got the fleece blanket in front of him just in time before he started throwing up. It just kept coming up, but the poor kid kept trying to swallow it. He was screaming the whole time. It was awful.
We had just switched who was holding him, so Tom was the lucky one to get it all over his lap. I was the lucky one who ran around trying to clean everything up, undress the Pooks, and throw things in the laundry. (Which reminds me, I have to throw stuff in the dryer.)
Tom took TJ up and got him in the bathtub. He was still screaming. It was so sad.
I polled everyone on Twitter as to whether or not I needed to call the pediatrician tonight. The consensus was to wait until morning, which ended up being what Tom and I decided on anyways before I got back to my computer to see everyone’s replies. (Thanks @coupondivas, @minnemom, @audreyokaneko, and @forever_trust.)
After TJ’s bath, we got him into a blanket sleeper – still screaming. We had to force-feed the Children’s Advil to him. I hated doing it, but he really needed to get the fever down. He’d also complained about his ear hurting, so we’re not ruling out an ear infection – though it could’ve just been because he took offense at having a thermometer shoved in his ear.
I once again got to rock my boy to sleep in the rocking chair. So sad. So pitiful. Even after I felt him fall asleep in my arms, his face still looked miserable when I put him in bed.
An hour after I put him to bed, I snuck into his room to check on him. I kissed his forehead, and it was cool. What a relief! An even better sign: he was snoring away contentedly. I think he’ll be fine.
And if not, we made arrangements with Grandma Kitty for a contingency plan tomorrow morning. If TJ isn’t doing well, Tom has plenty of vacation/personal time left, and he can call in to work. I hate that I can’t do the same, but such is life.
That’s me: Christina Gleason. I’m a writer, editor, and disability advocate. I'm a multiply disabled autistic lady doing my best in this world built for abled people. I’m a geek for grammar, fantasy, and casual gaming. I hate vegetables. I cannot reliably speak, so I’ll happily conduct business over email or messaging instead.
