Our night at the Dentist's

We have settled into our room at the hospital. We have a nice private room with views of the lake. Trey is put into bed and the nurse shows him how to use the remote and how to move the bed up and down. So naturally we spend the next 30 minutes listening to the bed go up and down and watching the channels change.

The nurses here are great. They are really doing their best to chat up my little man. They take him into another room to do the blood work and insert his IV. Since he is so dehydrated, they are having trouble with the IV, and after poking 14 holes in his right arm, they have to call in someone else. He's crying and I'm bawling.

The next nurse gets the IV in after just a few tries. Naturally it is painful and Trey is crying crocodile tears. So, they give him a stack of stickers and send us back to our room.

We get him settled back into bed and he spends another 15 minutes playing with the up and down buttons. The poor guy was just a human pin cushion so I am letting him do whatever makes him happy at this point.

The nurse comes in and hooks up his bag of IV fluids and explains that he is getting a solution of 10% sugar. "It's like an IV bag of kool-aid," she explains. "Is that legal?" I ask. I mean seriously folks, sugar in the kids IV? Isn't that just asking for trouble? She politely explains that his body needs the energy to fight the infection in his blood.

"Well, can I get an IV bag of coffee please?" I ask. (It doesn't hurt to try . . .)

Trey's lunch tray arrives a few minutes later. He is less than impressed with his assortment of chicken broth and jello. I have to laugh because they also included a mug of hot tea. For some reason I just don't see this being a popular choice with 4 year olds. After struggling for 10 minutes trying to get him to eat I give up and send Paco to the vending machine. He has lost 3 pounds in the last week and he looks like a twig. My thought is that the poor kid has been through so much, let's just give him whatever is going to make him happy. So Paco comes bag with a variety of bags and Trey is happy to munch on some doritoes. Naturally, the nurse catches us red-handed.

God bless the nurse because she pretends she doesn't see it. She says that Trey has been through enough and if he wants to nibble on some chips, well at least he is eating something. My hero. I am so sending her a thank you card when this is over.

Now Trey is starting to get calls from friends and family and he tells everyone that he is at the Dentists. I thinks it's kinda cute, so I don't bother correcting him. However dear Paco aka the pronunciation police has to tell him that he is at the "hospital." And when Trey pronounces in HOPS-pital, Paco spends the next five minutes sounding out hos-spit-tal.

Oh Paco, the poor kid is sick and in the hospital. Can't you give him a break?

Trey is really starting to catch on to being the center of attention. He has figured out that the nurse will give him anything he really wants. She asked if he was thirsty and he said he wanted orange juice. Within seconds he was sipping on an ice-cold cup of OJ. So, when I was busy ready People, he pressed the call button for the nurse. When she enters the room asking "what do you need little guy?" He promptly replies "a tuna sandwich." Apparently the jello and broth just aren't cutting it.

After kindly explaining to him that he can't have normal food right now she returned seconds later with a Popsicle. Crisis averted.

Trey really started to perk up right away. The fluids were definitely helping. He went through an entire bag and was on his second bag before he had to use the bathroom. The nurse said that he really needed some fluids and that this was a good sign. However, getting a four year old to pee in a "hat" is not a task that should be taken lightly. You see, the first stream of urine naturally ricochets up and out, and in this case, veers to the right and directly into the face of the sleep-deprived mother that was holding on to the IV pole.

We get the little man tucked back into his bed, and again we spend the next 15 minutes listening to the bed move up and down until he finds the perfect position. After we are settled, the stream of gifts start to arrive . . .

Trey gets two balloon bouquets, 2 stuffed animals, and a bag full of candy and toys. He is starting to really like this hospital stuff.

Trey finally passes out at 6, and Paco decides to go home to "work on his paper." Sure, he is coincidentally going home to "work on his paper" right as March Madness begins and Syracuse is playing. Uh-huh. He must really think that because I am looney with the lack of sleep that I have become a COMPLETE moron. But, I smile and wave. I'll get him back later. Oh, you bet I will.

I hunker down for a wonderful night of sleep on a stained chair made of concrete and cardboard. I feel bad for Trey because the nurses have to come in every few hours and wake him to check his vitals. But, he takes it all in stride. God bless him.

By 6 am the next morning, I am starting to petrify and I'm in major need of caffeine. So, I find get Trey to the potty, find Sponge Bob on TV, get Trey situated with drinks and candy, and explain to him how to use the call button if he needs the nurse. I head out in search of coffee. As I am at the nurses station telling them that I am going to get coffee, I see that Trey has already hit the nurses call button. I walk behind the nurse and I hang outside the door.

"My Mom went to get coffee. So, do you you want to hang out with me?" Trey says. Naturally she sits down beside him and I head for the cafeteria.

I'm not gone long. After I get back and start enjoying my coffee, Trey's breakfast tray shows up. I don't know who put this together, but somehow I can't really see a 4 year old getting too excited for chicken broth and jello for breakfast. Oh, and they included a steaming hot cup of coffee this time. FOR A FOUR YEAR OLD. I pulled out a bagel with cream cheese from my purse and let him munch away. That's what mom's are for.

Paco shows up shortly after with a piping hot cup of Dunkin Donuts coffee. OK, so now maybe I'll forgive him for ditching us for basketball. Maybe.

The Dr. comes in and examines Trey. He is marvelled at how well he is doing now, and says that if Trey can eat a normal meal and have a normal bowel movement than we should be able to go home in 6 or 8 hours. Woo-hoo!!!

When Trey's lunch of mac-n-cheese arrives we immediately start cheerleading to get him to eat. Paco says "If you eat all your lunch then we can go home!"

"I like it here!" Trey responds.

Um, not the right thing to say to motivate a 4 year old who thinks the hospital is better than a hotel.

Trey did a good job of eating, and I may have accidentally told the nurse that he had a BM when he really didn't. But the end result is that we were able to go home. Ahhhh, HOME.