You Give Me Fever....

I don't think Peggy Lee had us in mind when she sang those words. But that's what we had: Fever. Charlotte got toasty Monday night, just as our dinner guests were untucking their napkins and heading home after a lovely holiday meal. I gave Charlie some Tylenol but just to be safe I called the after-hours doc. She was running a temp of 101.5, about one degree over the baby comfort zone and Dr. Atiya sent us off to the emergency room. We were expecting a long wait. We were not disappointed. It was 1 a.m before a doctor saw us. Then, to our surprise, we were admitted. Not to our local hospital, they were full-up. Paul went home to care for Harry, and Charlotte and were poured into an ambulance (they insisted, ugh) and off we went to Fairfax Hospital. That's where we stayed for three nights while she was treated with antibiotics and prodded.

She was in good hands and a fever was a blessing compared to the afflictions of the many very sick children sharing the pediatric floor with us. Our first roommate had a heart murmur. Our second roommate, also a newborn, had a cough like nothing I've ever heard. His mother, uninsured, never took him to a pediatrician and waited until he was really ill to seek care. She was just a teen and brought with her every single annoying toy, which she played to try to drown out his coughing. Suffice to say our last night was a noisy, sleepless one.

If there is a bright side, it's that Charlotte and I got in some nice mother-daughter bonding, sans the boys. I read her a few chapters of "A Christmas Carol," an excellent book, I'd forgotten. And when she slept I worked on her Christmas stocking.

Charlotte was an incredible trooper. We checked out Thursday morning and fled as fast our our feet would carry us. Charlie has been cool as a cucumber ever since, dutifully taking her antibiotics and napping. On to Christmas.....