cheers and jeers

I love Reader's Digest. I remember reading my grandma's old issues. My favorite feature was called "Drama in Real Life." It had all the good stuff like people getting mauled by bears, attacked by mountain lions, lost at sea, bitten by sharks, struck by lightning and washed away in mudslides. Good stuff. And most of the time the people lived to tell about it. I guess that's why the stories made it into the Reader's Digest.

I like to think we had our very own "Drama in Real Life" around these parts this past week. No bears, mountain lions, sharks or lightning was involved. It was drama just the same. Danny woke us up in the wee hours of the morning on Sunday. He had puked. (That's the word I'm using. If it's offensive to you, sorry. Substitute throw-up, barf or whatever else you want instead.) Sadly, this occurred only a few short hours after I had woken up in the wee hours of the morning and puked.

The drama continued well into Tuesday afternoon. Danny was not able to keep down even water. I called the doctor because I was worried about dehydration. My suspicions were confirmed. The doctor sent us to the hospital for some re-hydration. In true Danny style, he did not want to be carried. He walked the halls of the hospital like a drunk little man, swerving and teetering all the way. He mustered up enough strength to push the buttons on the elevator and up we went.

Instead of giving the boring play-by-play of the drama that ensued, I'll use one of my other favorite parts of the Reader's Digest. It's called "Cheers and Jeers." Cheers for the good stuff, jeers for the not-so-good.

Jeers to the nurses for taking well over 30 minutes to get an iv started. I know the dehydration caused his veins to be more difficult to locate and get a needle stuck into them, but good grief! Danny would later refer to his iv tube as his "medicine hose."

Cheers to the nurses for wrapping him up like a warm little burrito to restrain him during the process. That blanket probably saved a few of us from getting kicked in the head.

Cheers to the nurse who came in and finally got the needle in. Why couldn't she have just come in at first?

Jeers to her for not wearing gloves. The other nurses were wearing gloves, face masks and those yellow paper-ish robes (the ones that tie in the back).

Cheers to me for remembering to bring the puppies in the car with us as we headed out the door to the doctor.

Jeers to the person in charge of choosing the cable channels on the pediatric floor. There were exactly three choices for a two-year-old: PBS, Cartoon Network and The Disney Channel. Disney is good in the morning. In the afternoon and evening it's that Hannah Montana girl, Zach and Cody, or some wizard show. None of them cartoons. I'm pretty sure I heard some swear words in one of the cartoons on the Cartoon Network. (It might have been one of the swear words floating around in my own head though.) Haven't these people ever heard of Noggin?

Cheers to Aunt Judy for stopping by with Danny's DVD's of Wubbzy, Oswald and Bob. I don't think I can ever watch another episode of any of those shows again for as long as I live. He watched them non-stop. I have some memorized now. My brain is mush.

Cheers to the nurse who brought in books, a huge pirate ship and a box of cars to play with. That lasted a whole 10 minutes but it was a nice break from the t.v.

Jeers to my cell phone. No internet. No games. No nothing. I reorganized my contacts list, changed my ringtones and revisited my photo albums. Woo hoo. I want an iPhone.

Cheers to the Project Linus blanket that was gifted to Danny as soon as he was settled into his room. I had brought one of his blankets from home but left it in the car. And cheers to the ladies (and maybe some men) who make those blankets. What a great idea.

Jeers to the nurses who don't bother to read his chart to notice the fact that he goes by Danny, not Daniel. He doesn't even know his name is Daniel. I was tempted to write on the little whiteboard on the wall: His name is Danny. His puppy's name is Puppy. His other puppy's name is Puppy, too.

Cheers to the end of the puking.

Jeers to the start of the squirts.

Cheers to someone else having to clean up the aftermath of the squirts. No extra loads of laundry for me!

Cheers to Daddy coming to visit. And more cheers to a good neighbor for watching Cate so he could come alone.

Cheers to popsicles. Especially the yellow ones. In the words of Danny, "Ahhh. Perfect for me!"

Cheers to the entertainment value of those controls on the side of the bed that move it up and down. This little patient couldn't get enough of it.

Cheers to this little patient feeling better and actually requesting a shower. I think he was just trying to find a way to be allowed out of his bed.

Jeers to the stupid shower head. I couldn't get it to stop spraying the corner of the shower stall. Danny didn't mind but it frustrated me to no end.

Cheers to cute little tooshies in a hospital gown. I couldn't resist taking this picture. Can you blame me?

Cheers to hospital food. Seriously. I enjoy most of it. No planning, no grocery shopping, no cooking, no cleaning up. Danny ate the meat almost every time. He never wanted the dessert. Fine with me!

Jeers to the square of green Jell-o filled with fruit cocktail and sitting on a green lettuce leaf. Danny was on the toddler meal plan. What toddler is going to eat that?

Jeers to hospital pillows. A rock might have felt more comfortable.

Cheers to the bedrails. Without them I most certainly would have ended up on the floor most nights. That kid tossed, turned and kicked his legs all night long both nights we were there. I have never wanted my kids to sleep in my bed with me. Danny never has. After this week, I know he never will.

Jeers to me for wearing the same shirt three days in a row. I was afraid to tell Dan to bring me a clean shirt. I'm picky. I didn't want to try to visualize my closet and then explain to Dan which shirt to bring. And since you're wondering, I did not wear the same underwear three days in a row.

Cheers to getting the ok to go home! Danny was grouchy and did not want to leave. Go figure.

He felt fine once we got home and was pretty much back to his old self. Part of that old self is being the social butterfly of the neighborhood. He was ready to go visit his friends he hadn't seen in a few days. We went to Glenda's house and Danny got to ride on a horse. How's that for a welcome home?



And how's this for a welcome home for me? Jeers to the spiders who decided to make themselves a home on my shoes. Talk about drama in real life.