Zomb-baby, a tale of horror.
Scariest weekend ever. Yes, really, I’m not just being glib, so reader beware.
Yesterday I picked Colette up early from daycare. Alright, I need to preface this story with a little bit of an update about what’s been going on with her there. It’s been eating at me that she’s seriously hating the daycare. I mean, yes, I realize it’s normal for kids to cry when you first drop them off, but this is alarming. It’s been hard to tell the last few weeks whether she was just teething, or feeling bad (oh yes, as per requisite kiddo cesspool contamination, she got a cough the MOMENT she entered daycare), or if she’s really just having some pretty severe anxiety. OK, each of those might be true to some degree, but it’s clear that she’s being negatively affected by going there. She’s a totally different kid at home even on the days that she doesn’t go in, and the only change is that dang daycare. So, yes, we’re planning her escape already. Maybe we’ll find someone to help out at home a few days a week, maybe we’ll just find a different place, but, however it works out, something’s gotta give.
Dropping her off yesterday (Friday morning) was absolutely gut-wrenching. When I arrived at 9 a.m., it was outright bedlam, (she was bawling the moment we pulled up and realized where we were), and by the time we got inside she was one of 3 screaming toddlers. This, out of a total of 7, all completely restless and starved for attention. The supervisor, let’s call her Miss Tess, looked like she was about to have a nervous breakdown (think Nicholas Cage in that one scene where he sneaks in to get a baby in Raising Arizona). She informed me that it was Splash Day (where all the kids go outside and play in a sprinkler). Yes, I knew that, which was why I brought all her stuff- swimsuit, swim diaper, extra shoes, clothes, towel, etc. Ah, but now I came to find out that you actually have to bring them in their swim outfit to school. So I set about to get her changed. With all the melee, there was nowhere for me to go but the floor with her on my lap to do this business, so I plopped myself down and got to work. All the while, Colette was mewling and clinging to me with this horrible dread in her soggy little eyes. Soul-piercing, really.
While this was going on, another lady came in and asked Miss Tess if she could leave her son there for the day- she seemed to be a former customer and was on familiar terms. Miss Tess said he’d have to go to another classroom for the day because she was only supposed to have 5 kids, but had 7 already. [I’m thinking to myself: Oh, so the veil is slipping… I see. You’re totally understaffed. Great. Super. Stellar. Fffffff!] About that time, a little boy from another class of older kids came in to use the restroom. He did, then left the door to the restroom open (hi, babies drown in toilets, ya gotta watch that), but I was right there, so I made use of myself by herding some of the already zombie-like babies out of the doorway. (All babies instinctively know when something is dangerous and flock to it like zombies to brains. This won’t even be the last zombie reference in this post y’all, so stay tuned). Oh, and then the little boy decided to let himself out of the room altogether since he wanted to go back outside to play in the sprinklers. Apparently, this kid lives in a barn instead of a house, because he then left the door to the great outdoors wide open, at which point all the droolers made an about-face swarming-move towards their great escape. Again, good thing I was there to, uh, quarterback and close the door. Poor Miss Tess was still in the middle of feeding and diapering the other zillion babies in her care.
When I left, the babies were finally all outside and Colette was standing in the sprinkler water in tears, devastated that I would abandon her to the horrors of daycare. OK, I left and started to bawl myself. I HAD to go get some work done, but lemme tell ya, I floored it to the office, not stopping for coffee or breakfast, or any damned thing that could possibly get in the way of me getting my work load out of the way so I could turn straight back around and go get her.
Y’all, that was the best part of the day.
Around 2:30 p.m, I went home, scarfed down some lunch and headed right back out the door 15 minutes later to go get my girl. I decided I’d take her swimming since it was hot as hell outside and the poor kidlet just needed some mama fun time. And speaking of, I parked in the shade when I got there because damn, it was downright miserable out there! I packed up my babycakes, who was being fed her fruit among all the other kids chewing on their popsicles. (See my previous post about what I think about their dietary policy at the daycare). Yeah, I’m not talking about some frozen fruit on a stick, I’m talking Chernobyl on a stick. Neon-colored sugar-water, yo. Oh, baby. We are outta here!
We took off and I called another friend with a baby who I’ve been trying to get together with for tandem baby swimming lately. She was home, so I headed that way. Her house isn’t far, and I got about a mile down the road when I noticed Colette making a strange noise in the back seat. I looked in the rear-view mirror and began to pull over. What I saw in that mirror was a total horror show, and I’ll probably never get the image out of my head. Colette was slack-jaw, eyes half-mast, with the entirety of pulpy orange mango stomach contents being emptied down the front of her. This, y’all, was Night of the Living Dead style. I jumped out of the car, wiped her off, and she began to a pitiful and really tired-sounding cry. Gosh, maybe she got carsick or something. Or maybe this is some new virus. Joy. I didn’t want to be that hypochondriac parent who panics just because her kid throws up, so I decided to press on with a watchful eye on her situation.
When we got to our destination, I explained to the other mama what was going on. We hung out for a bit to watch her and see how she’d fare. Well, Colette just didn’t seem her perky self, so I decided to forgo swimming and head home. We got in and laid on the couch in the living room. Then things began to get really weird. She was absolutely lethargic. She wasn’t smiling, she was slow in her responses, and seemed extremely sleepy and, oh yeah, CRANKY. We took her temperature, but she was fine (by this point we refers to my sister Camille who, being in town for a few days, had just gotten to my house from a day out with our mom, and Colby who I’d called home).
Colette didn’t want to nurse, didn’t want anything to drink, and was downright drowsy. I thought this was really strange since Miss Tess told me she’d napped for close to two hours that day. While I was observing her, she started doing a strange rapid-breathing thing for a few moments at a time- almost like panting or something. She fell asleep finally around 4 p.m.- which, again seemed odd, but I figured if she was sick, then it was best to let her doze. What was amazing was the swiftness with which she went down. This is usually a process that involves nursing, coaxing, binkies, a quiet room of her own. None of that was required- girl went down lickety-split without a hitch on the couch in the living room. This is unheard of, people.
I started reading about lethargy in her baby ailment book which warned that if she had some of the symptoms I just described above that it could be an emergency. I called the doctor after she woke up still lethargic and weird, who said to give her ibuprofen and if she didn’t perk up within an hour or two to take her to the ER. Don’tfreakoutdon’tfreakoutdon’tfreakout. OK, I was freaking out on the inside prett-ee bad by this point, y’all.
Fortunately, the ibuprofen did indeed perk her right up for the rest of the evening, and we got away without a trip to the hospital. She slept great last night, but this morning she wasn’t quite herself yet. She did OK during breakfast out with the family, but it was clear to me that, although on the mend, she wasn’t 100%. We went to meet some more friends for a quick visit before finally heading home. She fell asleep during every car ride this morning, and when we got in for the afternoon, she slept on and off all day. Certainly she was getting better by the hour, but it was touch and go. During her naps, I started researching baby lethargy on the internet. I found something about lethargy and vomiting (she puked a couple of times since the big barf yesterday, but nothing more than some spit-up). Here are the symptoms of- are ya ready- heat stroke. The ones in bold are the ones I know about and question marks next to the ones I suspect she may have had:
In fact, here’s their overview of baby heat stroke:
Heat stroke is a life-threatening condition that occurs when a person becomes extremely overheated. Basically, the body’s temperature rises while its ability to cool off shuts down. Babies and young children are especially vulnerable to heat stroke. Your baby might get heat stroke if he is outside too long in very hot weather, for example, especially if he becomes dehydrated or if he’s dressed too warmly. Riding in a hot car — or leaving him in a parked car, which you should never do — would put him at risk, too. (In fact, heat stroke can occur within minutes in a car, where the temperature quickly climbs much higher than the outside temperature.)
Well, I’m not a doctor, and I don’t even play one on TV, but this sure seems to be what happened. Even though I’d parked in the shade before going inside to get her, it was boiling in the car yesterday. Although I turned on the AC to full blast first thing when we got in, it probably only took a few moments for her to overheat in the back seat. She wasn’t sweating, and I assume that by the time we got home yesterday and took her temperature, it had already regulated itself so I really didn’t think of this as an option. I don’t know about the pulse because I didn’t check it, and I don’t know if she was dizzy or confused because she’s a baby and I can’t ask her. As for the headache, well, I’d be willing to bet that’s what’s been ailing her today since she seemed to be relieved with each dose of ibuprofen. In fact, after I gave her an afternoon dose of ibuprofen today, she was immensely better and finally seemed back to her old self by about 5 p.m. During dinner and bathtime the gal was positively ecstatic. You’d never know she just went through something that rough!
Needless to say, my shoulders are a few inches higher and a whole lot firmer than they were last Thursday, but I’m positively blissful on the inside at this point. My baby is OK. If you’re reading this, please take heed and keep your babies cool during the summer. Also, feel free to pass on and repost this blog wherever you feel it might be of service. I got away with a cheap lesson- but it could have been devastating. What gets me is that it was hot, but didn’t seem like it was extraordinarily hotter than, say, any other day this week. I mean, it’s like this every day here and she’s always fine. I hope this is an eye opener for anyone who, like me, might be a bit clueless as to just how critical of an issue overheating can be. We were almost a statistic- so don’t y’all be! HERE is the article in full about baby heat stroke.
Night, y’all. It’s 11 p.m. on a Saturday night and it’s taken me hours to write this, so I’m turnin’ in!
