Well we had a rather... interesting day yesterday.
When I woke up yesterday (late, thankfully since Chem Lab doesn't meet in the 1st week) my Jethro was not himself. He woke up and walked into the hall and started crying, the crying he does when he is in pain, and I tried to sit him down and make him feel better, no change. I couldn't get him to calm down for some time. He was slinking around, he was arching his back, holding it up to cradle his belly. He couldn't lay down in a comfortable fashion, as he could never lay down where his belly wasn't having pressure put on it. He had trouble sitting down. He wouldn't go to the bathroom. He wasn't interested in getting water, he didn't want a bit of food-- and if you know my baby, that's about as abnormal as can be.
When Zach got home, I explained my baby's strange behaviour, and Zach palpated his tummy and legs and we noticed how much his belly was hurting him. Nervous it was a foreign body (you know, something solid that is not meant to be passed through any intestine), we called Zach's parents and talked it over with them, and decided we didn't want Jethro to be in that kind of pain for long. So at about 6:30 we headed up to the clinic. Zach's friend Amy was on, and since she's crazy in love with hounds, she was just about the best person to look after him.
We didn't get home until after 11 pm. Jethro was furious that I wouldn't give him any dinner, but the doctor said not to. He got fluids at the clinic, and he went to the bathroom when we got home, thank goodness. He'll get a specialty diet for lunch and I'm supposed to go and make sure he does his business like normal. Whew. Poor Zach was quite nervous over the whole thing, he was so scared that Jethro had eaten something that was making him sick and that it would require surgery. He got something at the clinic, some drugs that have seemed to have a great impact on the boy!
It was surreal, though, for Zach to be the patient. He's used to being the one doing the treatment. It was more strange for me, however, to be sitting there, thinking of my husband going through the actions that Amy and the other 4VM on duty were. I don't know how to see him that way. I've known him since he was 17! I sat there, in the lobby, doing my cross stitch (feeling like a grandmother because of it, too) and trying to imagine my husband walking around like the girls were, going through the motions, sitting with a client and explaining a patient's treatments and problems. I know that the first few times I encounter him at the clinic being Dr. Clark, it's going to be really weird for me (because I plan on picking him up for lunch with the baby some days). To me he's the man who lays on the couch with me and giggles like a fool until I realize he's passed gas under the blanket, or the man who dances around acting like a goofball, or the man who gets in the kitchen with me and bumps me with his rear to prevent me from getting into the fridge.
My husband, the chameleon.
When I woke up yesterday (late, thankfully since Chem Lab doesn't meet in the 1st week) my Jethro was not himself. He woke up and walked into the hall and started crying, the crying he does when he is in pain, and I tried to sit him down and make him feel better, no change. I couldn't get him to calm down for some time. He was slinking around, he was arching his back, holding it up to cradle his belly. He couldn't lay down in a comfortable fashion, as he could never lay down where his belly wasn't having pressure put on it. He had trouble sitting down. He wouldn't go to the bathroom. He wasn't interested in getting water, he didn't want a bit of food-- and if you know my baby, that's about as abnormal as can be.
When Zach got home, I explained my baby's strange behaviour, and Zach palpated his tummy and legs and we noticed how much his belly was hurting him. Nervous it was a foreign body (you know, something solid that is not meant to be passed through any intestine), we called Zach's parents and talked it over with them, and decided we didn't want Jethro to be in that kind of pain for long. So at about 6:30 we headed up to the clinic. Zach's friend Amy was on, and since she's crazy in love with hounds, she was just about the best person to look after him.
We didn't get home until after 11 pm. Jethro was furious that I wouldn't give him any dinner, but the doctor said not to. He got fluids at the clinic, and he went to the bathroom when we got home, thank goodness. He'll get a specialty diet for lunch and I'm supposed to go and make sure he does his business like normal. Whew. Poor Zach was quite nervous over the whole thing, he was so scared that Jethro had eaten something that was making him sick and that it would require surgery. He got something at the clinic, some drugs that have seemed to have a great impact on the boy!
It was surreal, though, for Zach to be the patient. He's used to being the one doing the treatment. It was more strange for me, however, to be sitting there, thinking of my husband going through the actions that Amy and the other 4VM on duty were. I don't know how to see him that way. I've known him since he was 17! I sat there, in the lobby, doing my cross stitch (feeling like a grandmother because of it, too) and trying to imagine my husband walking around like the girls were, going through the motions, sitting with a client and explaining a patient's treatments and problems. I know that the first few times I encounter him at the clinic being Dr. Clark, it's going to be really weird for me (because I plan on picking him up for lunch with the baby some days). To me he's the man who lays on the couch with me and giggles like a fool until I realize he's passed gas under the blanket, or the man who dances around acting like a goofball, or the man who gets in the kitchen with me and bumps me with his rear to prevent me from getting into the fridge.
My husband, the chameleon.
1 kind words:
Is he ok?! Poor baby Jethro!!
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