Archive of ‘oregon trail’ category

Day 8, you lost a wagon wheel and the baby is suffering from Typhoid

As of late, the Thomas fam­i­ly has been liv­ing a life eeri­ly sim­i­lar to those pathet­ic excus­es for pio­neers in the Ore­gon Trail video game. Every­one loved Ore­gon Trail Day at school, it meant a full 45 min­utes of ford­ing the river, shoot­ing buf­falo after buf­falo know­ing full well that you would nev­er be able to car­ry the load back, pur­chas­ing sense­less rations just because you could and hop­ing that no one caught dysen­tery on the way to Cal­i­for­nia. I would have hap­pi­ly shot a buf­falo and attempt­ed to car­ry him home at any point dur­ing the last two weeks.
I have heard that boys are rough and tum­ble, prone to acci­dents and often cov­ered in bruis­es, cuts and scrapes. I can han­dle that, I grew up with three broth­ers and the occa­sion­al scuf­fle would arise. One par­tic­u­lar inci­dent with a reclin­er has left one broth­er with a scar that could eas­i­ly fool any late night bar patron to believe that he was either a) attacked by a bear or b) his kid­ney was stolen in the mid­dle of the night and he awoke in a bath­tub full of ice, but I digress. My sweet, inno­cent chil­dren have had a decent track record. No injuries, no major ill­ness­es, just a pret­ty easy going four years.  Well, that is if you don’t count that lit­tle inci­dent on Hand­some #1’s first East­er, when I fell down the steps while hold­ing him and inad­ver­tent­ly broke his leg in the process and didn’t seek med­ical atten­tion for two days because, “he was fine.” Just a blip on the radar……
Hap­py First Birth­day, you can dis­cuss this with your ther­a­pist in 20 years
It was only fit­ting that our first  sec­ond major injury would take place on a day when we had plans. Not the kind of plans where you are going to the zoo and it rains, nope big­ger. Not a birth­day par­ty that is can­celled because a child gets the flu. Nope, even big­ger. My broth­er, Kev­in, and his now wife, Emi­ly, hap­pened to be get­ting mar­ried on March 24. The exact same day that Finnegan march­es into our bed­room and says piti­ful­ly, yet quite mat­ter-of-fact­ly,
“I fell out of my bed in the mid­dle of the night and I screamed and cried and no one came to get me.”
Yep, the poor child took a head­er out of his bed and end­ed up with an injury requir­ing imme­di­ate med­ical atten­tion, a mere six hours before he was to be a ring bear­er in my brother’s wed­ding. Per­fect! It cer­tain­ly wouldn’t be a Dilthey func­tion with­out a cat­a­stro­phe, right? Right. So off to St. Anthony’s Car­di­nal Glen­non pedi­atric ER for a cou­ple of pic­tures. We arrived at the hos­pi­tal and I very casu­al­ly hand­ed them my insur­ance card and asked, “How long is this going to take? My hus­band, two chil­dren and I are all in a wed­ding in a few hours, so we need to be out of here fast.” Hmm­mm, that may have been a poor choice. Had I known then what I know now, I would have cer­tain­ly kept a low pro­file in the ER.
He found this excit­ing and couldn’t wait to see his bones
Such a sweet baby, whose moth­er didn’t hear him cry.…I could just die!
Hand­some #1 was tak­en back to a room,  wheeled into X-Ray and asked a few ques­tions about what hap­pened. Ulti­mate­ly, it was ruled a bro­ken col­lar bone and he was given a sling to wear to help pro­tect it. As soon as the sling was on, I pro­ceed­ed to ask real­ly dumb ques­tion num­ber two, “Does he have to wear this in the wed­ding? I mean, there will be a lot of pic­tures.” The doc­tor looked at me like, WTF is wrong with you, and said yes it need­ed to be worn. Fab­u­lous! The dar­ling mono­grammed john john will now be total­ly cov­ered up, at least he will have on his black and white sad­dles, that made me happy…..Shallow, I know but don’t tell me for one sec­ond that if you have a dar­ling out­fit planned for your child and some­thing changes that you aren’t pissed? You are just as shal­low and a lousy par­ent just like me…..
This is the best pic­ture I have to date, piti­ful. Look at the tap dancer, it is a sur­prise we didn’t go right back!
Tem­porar­i­ly mis­placed sling=Hillbilly health­care
Hand­some #! took to the sling like it was noth­ing and real­ly gave me no trou­ble. Let’s fast for­ward to the fol­low­ing Sat­ur­day, shall we? We had fam­i­ly por­traits planned that day for Hand­some #1, Hand­some #2  and Nephew #1 that day. I pressed their seer­suck­er pants, white polos with their mono­grams and sham­rocks and laid out their navy and white sad­dles. The boys were bathed, dressed and we were on our way to Faust Park.
The ride was unevent­ful, a lit­tle Fresh Beat Band, Yo Gab­ba Gab­ba, Dol­ly Par­ton for a diver­sion and a lit­tle 9 to 5. We no soon­er pulled into the park­ing lot that I heard the famil­iar grum­bling and splat­ter. I turn to see my pre­cious Hand­some #2 cov­ered from head to toe in banana vom­it. Per­fect, just per­fect. My pic­ture was just ruined.  I couldn’t pos­si­bly get Finnegan’s pic­ture tak­en with­out Hand­some #2, so I turned the car around and head­ed back home. Not with­out an extreme­ly over dra­mat­ic phone call to Scott where I sobbed uncon­trol­lably about how noth­ing ever goes right, my life is ter­ri­ble, I just want one sim­ple pic­ture is that too much to ask and blah, blah, blah…….I think he fell asleep have way through, or at the very least put me on mute.
The next day I had just about had it with being a par­ent and was thrilled to have a diver­sion and head­ed to a fam­i­ly baby show­er. No soon­er did I walk in the door from my after­noon of being a big girl with­out some­one cry­ing or scream­ing or rub­bing snot on me, that Bren­nan awoke from his nap. He was clingy and act­ing incred­i­bly dis­ori­ent­ed.  I asked Scott if any­thing strange had hap­pened and he said that he had fal­l­en off of the chair and bumped his head, but didn’t real­ly cry. This scared the shit of me and then the barf­ing came. Again, and again, and again. Back to St. Anthony’s Car­di­nal Glen­non ER we went. Per­fect, last Sat­ur­day, my son fell and I didn’t go to help him or res­cue him, which he has made a point to tell every­one, and this time, my oth­er son has fal­l­en and I wasn’t around so I am just not sure what hap­pened to him. I could already hear the call to DFS being made!
He was so sick
This was before the scream­ing began
Clear­ance to go home =44 0z of Diet Dr. Pep­per
Same rou­tine as last week­end, we got a room, a few X-rays some antin­au­sea med­ica­tion and the clin­i­cal diag­no­sis of a poten­tial con­cus­sion. In oth­er words, no seri­ous dam­age and he was OK to go home. Thank God! No one even men­tioned that I had been there the week before. May­be they didn’t notice, or may­be they didn’t think that I was crazy, or may­be, just may­be they believed that I wasn’t try­ing to kill my chil­dren! I have cer­tain­ly closed my eyes from time to time in an effort to make them evap­o­rate, just for 10 min­utes or so, but I would nev­er hurt my babies.
Once we were set­tled back home, it because appar­ent that what­ev­er was caus­ing this barf­ing had tak­en over Hand­some #2 and it wasn’t stop­ping. There was barf every­where. Scott and I put the kids to sleep hop­ing for the best, but braced for the worst. And the worst was upon us, Hand­some #1 start­ed to barf too. I cov­ered the fur­ni­ture and floors with sheets, I hand­ed every­one a buck­et and urged them to aim well.  Typhoid, dysen­tery, diph­the­ria I don’t know what it was, but it was bad and they were down.
We have a piper down.….
Please note that is not vom­it on the child, instead Pop­si­cle residue
Thank­ful­ly, the plague was rather short lived and we were able to resume nor­mal activ­i­ty at the Thomas House just in time for East­er and Uncle Jimbo’s 27th birth­day extrav­a­gan­za.
I told you no more pic­tures!
My mom thought that it would be a real hoot to have a piñata at the par­ty. Being the ath­lete that I am, I decid­ed that I should help Hand­some #1 to bust the piñata open…..It didn’t go so well……Well, I must depart now break time is over in the slam­mer, until next time, enjoy……