Tuesday, October 11, 2016
Wake me up when the sickness ends
After we came back from the beach I knew something was wrong. Scratch that. I knew as soon as I saw B on the beach, sitting alone with L, that something wasn't right. But there are too many other things involved in the story that made me think that. I won't talk about it, though.
We came home, she got fever. Fever on Monday. 104.1 on Monday night. Cold bath. Medicine. 104.7 on Tuesday morning. ER. IV. Observation for 3 days.
Vomit. Diahrrea (both kids and us).
B hospitalized for 10 days. Isolation. IV. Shitty nurses. Unprofessional doctors. Diaper rash. Sores on her face. Nasty food.
We came home on Monday (13 days after B was hospitalized) and by Wednesday we're back in the ER b/c B has an allergic reaction.
Saturday. L has sores on her arms/legs/mouth.
Sunday. More sores. On her private area. On her toes/fingers. On her face.
Hand-mouth and foot disease.
I blame the hospital for this b/c they didn't treat us (or any child in there) like highly contagious beings. I hated the cribs they used. I hated we had to share the room while B had such a horrible disease. Nurses would come and go like whatever and they'd touch B's head, B's crib. They would come and take her vitals with those nasty things...
I complain a lot about this b/c now L has this disgusting disease and we have to be so careful with everything she touches. I think some people in the hospitals, especially when there are babies and toddlers, should be way more careful.
Would an American hospital have been better? IDK. We got good care for B, but it lacked professionalism and hygene. I miss many things about eh States.