Yes, ER. As in Emergency Room. Here's what happened....
(Disclaimer: this tale includes detailed references to vomiting. Read at your stomach's discretion.)
Kylie is not my first child. And though in certain situations, I can't help but dote and obsess over my children, I usually consider myself to be a fairly laid back mom. So despite knowing that doctors recommend you don't feed your child eggs until they are over 12 months old, I went ahead and let Kylie have a taste of my breakfast yesterday. She was squawking away in her highchair after finishing off her cheerios, so I figured I'd give her a little taste of scrambled eggs since she is only 1 month shy of being a year old.
She ate the dime sized piece of egg and without any further thought I cleaned everything up and took her into the family room to play because Kyra, who had just awoke, was now hollering for me from the top of the steps. As I walked away from Kylie I heard her start to gag and cough and my maternal instincts told me to hold out my hands in front of her because she was about to vomit. (Why on earth do we moms try to catch puke in our hands?! It's so bizarre.) She threw up straight mucus into my open hands. I stared at it in disbelief, noticing a tennis ball sized mucus bubble afloat on top of the rest of the mess. As soon as I could tell Kylie was okay, I ran to the sink and washed my hands. I then raced back to Kylie and carried her up to her room to change her out of her slightly mucus spattered clothes.
It was while I was changing her attire that I noticed she had a rash around her mouth and another on the inside of her right arm. Again, my motherly instincts kicked into high gear and I raced Kylie downstairs to dose her with Benadryl. I felt a little more relaxed now, knowing that she had some meds in her system and that's when I remembered Kyra needed a diaper change and breakfast. I managed to get Kyra changed and into her booster seat. I peeled a banana while holding Kylie on my hip and served it to the ever-so-patient Kyra. Not 3 seconds later, Kylie again began gagging and coughing. I turned her away from my body and let her vomit on the kitchen floor. It's linoleum so I knew clean up wouldn't be terrible. What I hadn't factored into the equation was Chase and his curious tongue. Gross. But then again, he eats rabbit poop, so I guess I'm not really surprised.
I set Kylie down on the kitchen floor, away from the vomit, and dialed my nurse friend, Abby, as I cleaned up the mucus splattered across the floor. It was unreal how much mucus had come out of that tiny little 19ish pound girl. While I was getting Abby's advice on the situation, Kylie had pulled herself up on the leg of our kitchen table. She lost her grip and went face first into the table leg. The hysterical crying from the pain caused by the collision induced another bout of mucus vomitting. I hung up on Abby and dialed the doctor.
I got straight through to a nurse and began telling her what had happened. She was calmly listening to my story and then I mentioned I had given her eggs. As soon as the word came out of my mouth she cut my off by saying, "You need to take her to the Emergency Room."
Me: "Oh, really?"
Nurse: "Yes. In fact, you should call 9-1-1."
Nurse: "Where do you live?"
Me: *gave location*
Nurse: "So you can get to Brandywine Hospital pretty quick?"
Nurse: "Okay. You need to take her to the Emergency Room there. I don't want to cause you to panic, but egg allergies can be very severe. There could be swelling in her throat or otherwise that could restrict her breathing. You need to have her tested to make sure there isn't anything going on inside that you can't see."
Me: "Okay. I will. Thank you. Bye."
Or something along those lines.... I don't exactly remember because I was quite distracted. My brain never quite made it passed the point in our conversation where she said I should call 911.
Amidst all the puking and clean up and Chase and Kyra, I had stayed pretty calm. But after hanging up the phone, I couldn't put my thoughts together. I managed to call my neighbor to see if she could watch Kyra for a bit until I could get a hold of someone else to come over. I knew having Kyra AND Kylie by myself at the ER would not be fun or productive. When she didn't answer, I called Jim at work. I must've scared him out of his mind because as soon as he answered I just blurted out, "I have to take Kylie to the Emergency Room. I need you to come home and take care of Kyra."
He didn't go into 20 questions, probably knowing he'd get the whole story later, and must have left work immediately because he made it home in good time. I, of course, was going crazy waiting on him to arrive and when he pulled in I had Kylie in the car and ready to go. I took off and called him on my way to the hospital to tell him the details.
When I arrived at the hospital, I could feel the sympathy from everyone who saw me carrying little Kylie into the ER. I gave them the basic info and within a couple of minutes was called into triage. The nurse checked Kylie's vitals, including her oxygen levels, and left us to wait for the doctor. Despite the last 2 rounds of puking, the Benadryl must have made its way into Kylie's system because she fell asleep in my arms as we were waiting on the doctor.
I don't know how long we waited, or didn't wait, but when the PA saw her she reported that Kylie was perfectly normal. Even the rashes on her mouth and arm were gone and so the Benadryl must have been enough to do the trick. I got a brief lecture for feeding her eggs before age one and the one instruction on the discharge papers stated I was to avoid giving her eggs until her pediatrician approved. Seriously. Ya think?
So, less than 2 hours and a $100.00 co-pay later, we were back home and Kylie was perfectly fine. And I know this post was really long, but I had to at least get something for my money.