I Didn't Really Mean it That Way

I have found over the past few years that God has a sense of humor. Just ask me what happened the year that I prayed for patience! I find it to be really exciting to have inside jokes in my relationship with the creator of the universe. After the other night, I really felt the need to speak my heart about a tender moment between Cora and me. God put a prayer on my heart that I wanted to share, and then, God chuckled a little on his throne. You may recall that I prayed to enjoy all the moments, good and bad, happy and sad. Now, I imagine God saying under his breath, "Just wait, beloved! Just wait!"

So last night, John woke up out of the blue feeling the need to take Cora's temperature. The magic number turned out to be 103.7. This is when John decides to ask me if I thought the thermometer was accurate. In my groggy state, the best I can do is shrug my shoulders and try to think of a way to determine its accuracy. We decided that the best thing to do was to take my temperature. Ahh, but here's the rub. . .where do you take a baby's temperature? This leaves me with two very unappealing options. I'm not going to reveal how I figured out my temperature as I just don't want our relationship to have to change because of some unfortunate image you cannot get out of your head! Anywho, we determined that the thermometer was pretty darn accurate. At 2:00 in the morning, the only viable option for babies with high fevers is the emergency room. Yea, a field trip?!

Fortunately for us, there is a new hospital very near to us that is in the same family of hospitals as the one where we delivered. Being that it is so new and in a less densely populated area, the waiting room was vacant. We were seen immediately. The doctor ordered a breathing treatment and a chest X-ray as well as a dose of baby Motrin. The breathing treatment helped some, and the chest X-ray revealed nothing more than we already knew. But, as a precaution, he prescribed an antibiotic just in case this isn't viral. We are to continue breathing treatments, administer tylenol and motrin every 4 and 6 hours, and give the antibiotic twice a day. So, a mere 2 hours later, we are back on our way home. . . Just in time for John's alarm clock to go off for him to get up for work!

I would say that this whole experience falls under the bad/sad category (although as far as bad/sad goes, this one was admittedly very minor.) Thankfully, between all the drugs/treatments, little missy has not run a fever all day. She is much happier today, and her appetite is slowly coming back. Hopefully, she is truly on the mend. But, if not, I now know some really great doctors just a few minutes away!