Before starting this challenge I did my darndest to label every penny, nickel and dime that we would spend this month, get every last ducky in line for smooth sailing. While 95% of our expenditures have followed said illustrious plan, there is always a curve ball. It comes out of nowhere with no warning and whacks the fleshy part of your hiney. We had ours yesterday.
My sweet, precious 16-month-old Zoolander hunk...
...was having a romp with his sister after nap time. All was well with the world, bellies full of strawberries, and sunshine was calling us to play. So change diapers, lace up shoes, change more diapers after the first ones got messy, and then head out the door. Sweet Girl dutifully followed behind me, but the little guy stayed sitting on the floor as we opened the door. Normally he would knock both of us over to get out, so what was the deal?
I move closer to where he's sitting and he isn't himself. Slightly swaying backward, not getting up, unresponsive, eyes bobbing up and down at half-mast. Something is not right. So I hold him for a couple of minutes. Still labored breathing and crazy eyes. Very not right. I run out to Hubs who concurs--we need to get some medical help.
Sweet Grandma rushes over to watch the girl while we zoom to the closest emergency room. Zoolander can't stand up, he's breathing oddly, and still more eye rolling. Thankfully, no one is aware that this boutique hospital has an ER so we get in right away. After examining his sullen, quiet body and take his vital signs, everything seems to be fine and they monitor us for close to an hour. As the speaker for my not-yet verbal son, I relay the episode over and over until I'm not sure if what happened actually took place or if I've just repeated it enough to believe it. After an hour and a half, he can finally support his full weight to walk and he's back to his boyness, jabbing buttons and yanking handles--all the right ones to cost us an even bigger hospital bill.
What in the world happened?!?
They assume it was a seizure, but without any family nor prior history of epilepsy, there's no official stance on paper. "Lethargy" was our prognosis. Based on his behavior, my sweet son suffered a brief seizure and then recovered for two hours. No, they don't wish to test further at this point, due to his age and the fact that 5-10% of the population has irregular EEG scores anyway. Our official medical advice? Call 911 if it happens again. If he's seizing violently "next time" put him in his crib unrestrained and let it "run its course". Do you think we slept at all last night?
I'm confident, as is his primary doctor, that it was a one-time fluke, nothing to be concerned about yet--that we should keep an eye on it and discuss treatment if it happens again.
At some lucid point during the whole order, Hubs asked a nurse if the ER accepted Tony Roma's gift cards. Leave it to him to crack the ice. She "checked on that" with her supervisor and let us know that they didn't accept gift cards for payment of services, but that she loves Tony's honey glazed ribs and would gladly take them off our hands.
The average bill for an ER visit to that facility? $646. But to even compare a bill to my son's well-being is laughable at best, crude at worst. That we've had this unplanned intrusion in our lives doesn't demean our well-laid plans--it confirms that we can only prepare so much. If you're doing the challenge with me, give yourself some grace and be thankful for the people in your lives more than your bottom line savings.