I hate wires on my kid.

The wires, the crying, the helplessness.  It all came flooding back to me.
Young JJ was in the hospital last weekend with RSV and all I could think of was when Mags was in the NICU when she was born. 

I remember feeling helpless and hopeless and heart broken and scared.  Both times.
Mags was born 6 weeks early and was in the NICU for 10 days.  She had an IV to start with, but that was taken out a couple days in.  She had a little jaundice, but nothing to worry about.  But she was kinda small and lost a bit of weight and that was the major concern.  Once they put her on the John Weider Weight gainer formula, she picked up the LBs and was good to go.  10 days later. 

Jayna was wheezing, increasingly ashen and pale, had that huge red rashy thing on her face, and just wanted to help held all the time.  It was status quo for a bad cold until the wheezing.  Then I called in for an Urgent Care appointment. Yes, I know it seems odd to have to *call* for and *urgent care* appointment, but that's outr insurance.  In to the clinic we go and breating treatment #1.  Some freaking out (on her part), some vomiting, and home we go. 

Then she gets worse.  WHAT? 

So off to the ER we go - at 10:30 on Fri night, awesome.  We were out by 12:30am, 1 steroid treatment and Breathing treatment #2 later.  Go home, sleep, but not well.  Up every 2 hours. Crabby. Yuk.

The next day seems pretty OK, Took 2 HOURS to get all the Rx things for the girl.  Oral steroid Rx'd of course isn't carried by my insurance.  Have to resolve that issue.  Neubulizer, not carried in pharmacy, have to go to Peds.  Back and forth until I get in and get one.  Then home. 

2 more breathing treatments at home, but still in the evening seems to be worse again - has been cranky all day, not eating still, taking fluids but still not herself.

Call in to Nurse again, suggestion to go to ER.  I seem to have had a nightmare about this.

Back to ER at midnight this time.
Hussled into triage, O2 Sats low.... great.  Ronchi and rales.... great. Go do paperwork b/c "most likely" going to be admitted.... and me without my clean undies.
1:30 am - another breathing treatment. No improvement.
Suggestion to admit.
Suggestion taken.
Wait for transport to our hospital -again weird insurance thing.
4:30 am - transport arrives.
5:00 am - to Hotel Zion.

I have slept for 1 hour across 4 chairs at this point. ick.

We get settled.  Going to observe.  Talk to Dr in sleep deprived haze. Make a couple obligatory phone calls.  Sleep from 6:30 til 8 on lumpy fold out chair thing.

The next day was good - she did well.  We rested. But man, I was tired. 
Stopped breathing treatments b/c the didn't seem to be doing anything anyway.  J finally starts to sleep - for more than 45 min at a time.  JOY!

She keeps doing well, we stay the night as a precaution and go home in AM.  Hallelujah.

I remember looking at her in that crib/baby prison and being sad and scared.  And the memory of Mags in the same state was even worse.  I hate that my kiddos have had to endure these things.  But at least they are, in the long run, fine. 
JJ was not as bad off as some other kiddos.  It made my heart go out to the other kids in that unit, ones that were not there for precautionary observation.  What about the kids w/ cancer I saw, or the ones with IVs attached.  They smile and the go along.  B/c that is what they know.  But no parent wants that for their kids.
The Nurses were nice, the docs were great.  We will sort out the financial end.  The best part is that my girls are healthy and home.  For that I am thankful. 
But it brought back some no so awesome memories. 

I guess the bright side to that is that I will always have those to remind me of the good memories I do have.

Like how my 3 year old just farted on my lap.
Merry Christmas.