Vomit, diarrhea, ER, Oh My!!!

And so the saga begins...

We left for the Chicago family reunion with high hopes. I had been packing for days trying to make sure I was prepared for every little possible issue. Pants, shorts, medicines, snacks...the list goes on and on. I could not have prepared for this..

It was a beautiful 70 degrees in Chicago when we arrived. The flight was uneventful, a few tears and protests, but nothing major. The girls were thrilled to be at Gran and Opa's house. They had a fantastic day, then the storm clouds moved in... literally. The GI specialists had informed us that Ella's poor little large intestine was compacted with poo, so we had to give her a mild children's laxative. I waited until the evening we arrived to give it to her. The next morning Ella was not her usual self, we went to the park to play and she just moped around. At one point she cried and said that her tummy hurt and then she acted like she wanted to hurl. We took her home and put her down for her nap. Around 3:30 we hear a blood curdling scream. Jeff rushed up to her bedroom to find it covered in vomit. It was all over Gran's freshly pressed and starched sheets, the spotless floor, the special teddy bear.. She threw up two more times that day and then diarrhea began. It went on and on and on. We used up a package of 36 diapers in three days. Day two she tried to participate in the activities, but laid around for the most part in between diaper changes. Day three no more vomit, just more poop running down her legs all of the time. That evening, after putting the girls down I felt rumbling in my belly. I spent the whole night vomiting and using the bathroom ever 30 min. What a way to spend the night before your birthday! After sleeping three hours the entire night on the sofa, I realized that my special birthday outing into the City with out the kiddos was not going to happen. I spent the day curled up feeling miserable. Ella on day 4 of her illness was laying on the sofa, now refusing to drink anything. We tried everything to get her drink some fluids. Nothing... she was getting worse. By 4:45 we decided that she needed to go to the ER. I pulled myself together, weak and feeling like crap and got into the car. After an hour in the waiting room, we were called back. Ella is now officially terrified of doctors. She screamed bloody murder when they took blood and hooked her up with an IV. Her levels were very low, so it was a good thing we brought her in. Ella was given extra glucose and I was given a lecture on the dangers of low blood sugar, not that I could hear much of what was being said with Ella's wailing and sobbing. She screamed bloody murder and refused to lay on the bed. She was given 2 liters of fluid each liter taking an hour. Once we were done hydrating her, the nurse came in to take out the needle, more screaming. The nurse did not put pressure on the needle site after taking it out, so next thing we knew there was blood all over Jeff, Ella, and the floor. More drama... We got home dead tired around 10:00 pm. Happy Birthday to me! By this time Ella had perked up thanks to the glucose, she was back to being my talkative little girl.

The following day we packed up and headed to the airport to catch our plane. I was feeling positive that we had run out of bad luck. Ummm...no!! The flight was delayed for 4 hours. We finally boarded at 8:00 pm. The girls were sleepy, Claire tried desperately to get comfy, Ella was sprawled over out laps. Jeff and I both sighed in relief. I was holding Claire, she finally fallen asleep We had been in the air for about 20 minutes. Then it happened...she woke up abruptly and hurled all over me , the seat, the floor, the blanket. It was everywhere and we still had two more hours to go. On a positive note I did have a spare change of clothes for both girls. So yes... I sat on a wet seat and covered in vomit praying to God that the time would fly by. End of story...nope it gets worse. We are about to land, I am feeling a bit giddy and then the plane pulls up. We hear over the intercom, "there was a dead animal on the runway...we need to circle until it gets cleaned up". Son of a B*$@#! All of a sudden, Ella starts whimpering in pain, then starts crying, "my tummy.. poo poo coming out, poo poo coming out." Then we smell it, it over powers the stench of vomit. Her leg is wet, it is running down her leg. We can't do anything about it until we land. We circle for 35 excruciatingly long minutes. The poor people sitting near us, after we land the air is turned off intensifying the lovely aroma. Once we land, Jeff scrambles to the planes bathroom before people begin standing up. The bathroom will never be the same, our whole row of seats will never be the same. I would not be surprised if we get a cleaning bill from American. WE walked in the door to our house at 1:00 am, gave Ella a much needed bath and put the girls down. Moral of this story is... never say to yourself, it can't get any worse, because it CAN!!!