Ever since I brought my first babe home I've always feared a certain event occurring.
That first trip to the ER
I think every parent fears this.
It's bound to happen.
I remember going (Okay, I remember my Mom telling me about it) when I was three because I somehow pulled a barbecue grill down on my big toe. My brother went when he was young for drinking paint thinner and my sister had to get stitches once.
It's bound to happen, unless you wrap your kiddos in bubble wrap and keep them in a padded home.
My trip happened last night.
It was nothing too tragic, no broken bones or erasers shoved up ones nose
It was because of a fever.
An annoying ass fever that refused to go away.
I had been treating Turtle for a fever on and off all day and it just kept climbing last night (doesn't the worst always happen at night) and after frantic calls to my Dad (a former Fire Chief) and Mom (a nurse), my best friend (married to a paramedic), the doctor's after call center and my husband, I decided that it was hovering too close to 104 for my comfort level.
104 is my cut off temperature.
So off we went.
And of course, Turtle was a champ for the whole thing.
When we were at home, she was kinda sleepy and fussy which didn't really worry me, but I knew inside that she was fine when she started squealing and was running all over the room like a crazy lady, throwing her baby doll at every available surface.
They gave her more motrin and tested her for strep, which was negative.
Then after three and a half hours, they sent us home telling us it was viral (This is their go-to answer for anything it seems).
I feel an odd sense of relief that that first ER trip as a parent is over with.
It makes me feel like I can truly handle anything as a parent.
I should get a badge or something... or at least a new pair of shoes.
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