So last Thursday we woke up, made super delish sour cream pancakes (Pioneer Woman recipe), and watched the sky get out-of-control dark from that Derecho business.
The girls were bopping around playing while I was trying to clean up. On Tuesday evening I had noticed a Olivia had a slight wheeze when she exhaled. Wednesday it seemed okay in the morning, but Thursday morning I could hear it when I was five feet away from her. She didn't seem upset by it or in major respiratory distress, but it was definitely not something I was comfortable with. I called the pediatrician (it is 10:15am at the time), and they said come in at 11:10.
Now our pediatricians are absolutely amazing. They actually are the same ones I went to my entire life and dealt with all of my kidney/peritonitis issues when I was five (I'm going to assume it was a newer practice when I started because none of them are old). Now we used to live five minutes from there. Now we live 25-30 minutes away. So (obviously we are all still in pajamas), I start throwing clothes on the girls and myself, and trying to call my sister to see if I can possibly drop the older two off at her house. She was at the hospital visiting my grandma, but she was leaving anyways so she came straight to my house to pick up the girls (and literally saved my life and sanity... little did I know how much). We got to the doctor's office by a little after 11 and were brought back within five minutes to a treatment room. Now, the following events have actually never happened in my entire 29 years of going there (well you would have to ask my mom I guess... but they are always super timely and I am in and out fast. Always...) Well, we were put in a room that appeared like it was geared for older kids. It had one plastic truck and three books in it. A far cry from the plastic house, toys, etc in the waiting room and the umpteen toys that always seem to be in the other rooms. I tell myself not to worry, they are always quick... 50 minutes later (I am awkwardly sweating trying to entertain Olivia, per usual), the doctor comes in apologizing profusely. There was a mixup on which room we were in (because apparently they never use this one since it is for older kids). She does her exam and Olivia's wheeze is obvious and even worse when she would push on her chest to help her take deeper breaths. Her squeaks were so pathetic sounding! So, the doctor said she wanted to do a breathing treatment right now to see if she could get Olivia a little more comfortable, and then they would send a nebulizer machine home with us and we need to do it every four hours as needed, or at least three times a day for the next week. She said the medical assistant would be in to set it up in a minute. She apologized a bunch more times for it taking so long, and said she would be back to check her after the neb treatment.
It is now 12:15, and my stomach is literally making the loudest noises EVER and Olivia is beyond cranky, tired and hungry. We wait for the neb treatment... and we wait. And wait. Twenty minutes later, the doctor comes flying back in, and she was like, "Wait, they haven't come done it yet??" She goes to find the medical assistant (who is the same one as when I was a child and is absolutely great), who comes in and is apologizing profusely because somehow no one had told her that this was supposed to be done. Anyway, they set up the machine and I put the mask over Livi's face and at first she seems content. It is supposed to go for five minutes, so as soon as the doctor and medical assistant left the room, Olivia started screaming bloody murder. Fighting me, pushing the mask away, sobbing hysterically (which doesn't help when you are trying to breath). I had to try to pin her arms back so I could keep it over her face but she is a strong little thing! The medical assistant walks back in and Olivia goes silent. (I swear she likes to keep up appearances or something, because she is an angel for everyone else but me). After the neb treatment, Olivia apparently sounded slightly better so the doctor called in the order to Target (right by them) so I could go run and pick it up.
We pack up, go over to Target, and get in line behind SEVEN PEOPLE to pick up the prescription. Olivia is sobbing, starving, exhausted. She randomly coughs and wheezes super loud and several people asked me if she was okay. We finally get to the front of the line and somehow, it is not ready yet. I am kind of in disbelief as I am awkwardly sweating, holding a flailing, squeaking child. Okay, I will be back in 15 minutes. Sure, I can easily blow $100 at Target in 15 minutes. It's okay that we are both starving to a new level. So I grab a coverup for me, three rompers for Olivia and Layla (they wear the same size), a dress for Summer, milk, eggs, boxed lemon bar mix (See this is how hungry I was. Most random buy ever.) string cheese, bananas. I go back over to wait behind FIVE people for the prescription as Olivia is wailing, gripping onto the string cheese, trying to open it like she has never eaten before in her life. We finally get the prescription, go check out and make it to the car.
McDonalds is in the same shopping center so obviously I make really good food choices when I am about to pass out from hunger (i.e. lemon bar box). We go get in what feels like the longest line ever in the drive thru. There is one car in front of us at the getting the food window when this van comes flying around the very narrow lane beside me (totes almost hit the Nav. Not okay). She gets out of her car and starts yelling at the McDonalds worker that she needs sugar. I couldn't hear what the worker said, but then the woman started screaming at the person in the car in front of me to move. A screaming match ensues as I sit in my car, mere feet away from chicken nuggets, fries and a mocha frappe. Finally that whole mess clears up and we get our food.
My gas light is on (natch) and I have 8 miles left in my tank. Fantastic. So I go through the McDonald's parking lot over to the gas station next door (I actually drove right next to the woman with the sugar issue... I was tempted to stop and ask her why she was so evil but I made a better decision and kept driving). I pull up, give Olivia a few fries (she smashed them in her face so fast I thought she was going to choke). I go set up the gas, and of course, I chose the pump that the lever was broken and wouldn't go unless I stood there and held it. So, I go back and forth between pumping gas and running to give Olivia food. More awkward sweating. Finally my tank was filled ($90 later, downside of the Nav), and we are off to pick up Summer and Layla. After Olivia inhaled a few nuggets and a ton of fries, the poor baby was out like a light.
We pick up Summer and Layla (I explained to my sister that she truly did save my life), FINALLY get home, I successfully transfer a sleeping Olivia to her crib, and collapse on the couch. Within 10 minutes, I get a text alert about tornados from the Derecho whateverness. I saw that is said Poolesville, Gaithersburg, etc. I'm like "Okay, whatever, we are fine." My sister calls two minutes later, "Are you in the basement?!?!" Me: "Umm no." Well, I missed the second alert that mentions that we needed to take shelter immediately and there was a tornado in Olney. Awesome. Fab. Just dandy. I have to go upstairs and get a SLEEPING child out of her crib, grab the other two, and go in the basement. I pulled one of the couches away from the window into what I thought was the safest area. We hung out down there until everything passed (One of the girls was crying because she was scared. One kept trying to look out the window. You guess).
A few positives I saw in these situations:
-We are all safe with no damage to our house or anything.
-My sister had Summer and Layla. I truly cannot imagine having all three during this.
-There was no Derecho issues while I was driving, getting in and out of any car, etc.
-The doctor thinks Olivia's breathing issues are due to her fever virus thing. Hoping for that over something like asthma. She is a champ at home with it:
-My new Tory Burch flip flops were super comfy and cute running around, even with the awkward sweating (A minor positive, but still important).
-I didn't run out of gas.
Happy Monday!!
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