She spent a bunch of last night just SCREAMING, not like crying, but like she was in pain. She had a terrible time getting to sleep and then couldn't seem to stay asleep either. When she got up this morning she was really hot. Her (butt! ha ha) temperature was 101.7, and she seemed unhappy and congested, but I wasn't really worried about her. I thought I would call the pediatrician just to make sure because she's so young, thinking they would tell me not to bother coming in. The Pediatrician Gods frown on such arrogance. They made me come in AND they gave her a finger stick. And it finally decided to be winter out and everything was covered in a thick layer of ice and dragging a sick kid out into that was the last think I felt like doing. One of the doctors at the practice has a beyond striking resemblance to a family friend, so it is always entertaining to see him. We first met him at the hospital when Dylan was born, when he told my mother that men are genetically incapable of dressing babies as he struggled with her little newborn shirt. At least the practice has Sunday hours and is walking distance.
Here are some pictures of Dylan working her Tommy Hilfiger outfit in happier times (uh, yesterday evening) before heading out to a birthday dinner for a friend:
2 comments:
So what's wrong with her? Did they say? Nana
Eh, virus. Call if she's not better in a few days or gets worse. She's also been desperately gumming things and I think some babies have fevers when they're teething, so that may be part of it too.
Oh yeah, the pediatrician also asked if there were any known exposures and when I said daycare he was like, oh, every known exposure then.
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