Monday, June 16, 2008

Friday The Thirteenth Hits the Unknown Household

I'm not superstitious, but sometimes you have to wonder. Here's a Friday the Thirteenth play in five acts

Act 1:
We go to Unknown Son's regular chemo treatment (he's now on a once every three week schedule). While Unknown Wife and U.S. were taking care of the chemo, I took Unknown Daughter to an outside garden that's part of the hospital. She starts running around (U.D. has a LOT of energy), promptly falls, and badly skins both knees, her chin, and her forehead (it was a pretty impressive fall). The one bright spot in this episode there's no better spot to skin your knees than at a hospital.

ACT 2: The fall
That night, we get home and U.W. goes on a walk with a neighbor. While I'm upstairs changing to get ready for my bike ride, I hear a thump followed by a moan. I run downstairs to see U.D. sprawled across the stairs moaning. Apparently, she'd slipped on the stairs while walking down and landed hard. The edge of the stairs nailed her right in the back (across the floating ribs). I carried her to the couch and all she could do was gasp in pain, unable to take a full breath. At this point Unknown Wife gets back, and we decide to take her to the emergency room to get her ribs x-rayed.

ACT 3: Projectile Vomiting
Since it was almost 7:30, we decided to take both cars -- U.W. took U.D. and U.S. in the SUV, and I followed in the old beater my kids refer to as "the stinky car" (a 1993 Honda civic with 150,000 miles on it (but it's paid for). That way, I I can be there to help out, and UW can leave
Epilogue: sore back, US is fine, car needs detailing, and UW can leave early with US if there's a need to stay for a while. The hospital's close (about 6 miles), but halfway there, I see U.W. pull over into a parking lot and open the rear passenger door. It seems U.S. announced "I have a headache and I feel sick". This was followed immediately by extreme chemo-induced vomiting. Of course, we forgot his basin, there was not enough warning to get the door open, so the back to our SUV is now covered in Shreck-worthy quantities of vomit.

We transfer him to my car and follow U.W. and U.D. to the ER.

ACT 4: Two for the Price of one
While on the way to the ER, we have to stop three more times for U.S. to empty the remaining contents of his stomach. Once at the ER, he continues vomiting (once it starts, he gets into a cycle). So, while U.D. is waiting to get X-rayed, we have him admitted to get fluids and Zophran (an anti-nausea medication).

ACT 5: The aftermath
Unknown Daughter was given a clean bill of health (it was only a bruise), so I took her home at approximately midnight. Once there, I cleaned the SUV as best I could (that's why I got to go home earlier). Meanwhile, Unknown Wife stayed with Unknown Son until the fluids and Zofran took effect, and crawled home at 1:30.

By next morning, both kids were fine. And it'll only cost about $200 to have the SUV detailed (believe me - after this episode, this is definitely a job for a professional).

Oh, and Unknown Daughter has a mild case of paraskevidekatriaphobia.