Well, it’s one way to experience all the different hospital options, but I’d like to think I’ve done enough research for one year. I promise I was going to blog about something more uplifting and stop moaning…maybe even take some photographs! Eve had other plans though.
We had the pleasure of the hospitality (sorry) of yet another children’s hospital yesterday. Eve woke us at 4am because she’d been sick and by 8am she wasn’t showing any sign of getting better. I’m trying to write this without inflicting too many descriptive words on you, because I know there are those among you who probably don’t like to read blow-by-blow accounts of other children’s illnesses. Anyway, she wasn’t keeping anything down, even liquid. I tried feeding her small teaspoons of water and she couldn’t even manage to hold onto that. I’d read somewhere in one of those children’s instruction manuals you get when you have a baby that you have to be extremely careful of dehydration, as it can quickly become very serious. So, as soon as I could see that she was only getting worse we got her to our local doctor.
He took one look at her grey face and her sunken eyes and told us to get her to the hospital straight away. She was a listless little shadow of her former self and it was quite scary to see just how fast she’d gone downhill. We got on the motorway (no public transport for us this time) and drove as fast as our little Saxo could take us to Tallaght Children’s Hospital. I must apologise to you if you were bullied out of the fast lane or undertaken by a green hatchback yesterday morning, Matt was taking no chances. I was hiding in the backseat praying we weren’t all about to admitted.
Eve has never been so sick as she was yesterday and I’ve never felt so helpless as I did when we stood around the bed and watched the doctor hook her little arm up to the IV. She was so listless and ill she barely had the energy to cry when she felt the needle going in and all I could do was try and get her to look at me while I smiled as if everything was perfectly fine.
We sat with her for about 3 hours and waited for the fluids to do their work. The doctor told us to expect that she would have to be admitted and it did seem that nothing was happening. Eve slept for most of the time, and when she was awake she would just ask for a drink please. We didn’t want her to be sick anymore so we had to keep saying no. Big mean parents!
At last the doctor came in to decide if he needed to keep her in and told us to give her a little drink of 7Up. She was so delighted we were finally letting her have a drink her whole body was shaking as she was sucking it up the straw. As soon as she’d finished the cup she perked up and started chattering away to us just as she normally does. What a relief! Once the doctor saw she was doing a lot better he said we could take her home.
As soon as we got home she and I collapsed on the couch and fell asleep. They really do put you through the whole spectrum of emotions these children. I can tell you though that just like in Vincent’s and Temple Street, we were seen straight away. The staff were all lovely and explained everything they were doing. I did witness the trolleys along the corridors in the adult section though and I hope I never have to experience that for myself.
7 replies on “Another Day, Another Emergency Ward”
Wow, you will soon be an expert on the health system. I know what you mean. I can well recall all three of our girls at around Eve’s age. One minute they are so sick that they scare the hell out of you – and suddenly with the right treatment they bounce back very dramatically.
The message I seem to be hearing from you is that the hospitals are crowded but you do get seen quickly.
I’m glad it all went well for Eve – she is a wonderful little kid.
Yes, and I remember as a child being oblivious to the roller coaster I’m sure I put my parents through! I guess it comes back round in the end 🙂
As for the hospitals: most definitely crowded but so far no waiting at all anywhere. Not for children anyway – I walked through the adult A&E in Tallaght a couple of times yesterday and it was packed with people. They didn’t look like they were getting anywhere fast.
I was extremely proud of Eve both yesterday and on Friday, she was just so patient and hardly complained at all. More than can be said for her parents!
Oh the poor little mite. I hope she is doing well. It IS a worry. I’m glad the hospital visit ended on a happy note.
“all I could do was try and get her to look at me while I smiled as if everything was perfectly fine.” That’s soooo sweet….
Sounds like a scary time for all of you. Glad it turned out well in the end Claire.
This must have been very scary for you poor parents. It brings back memories of sleepless nights, intense worry, and total exhaustion when the little one is back to her/his normal bubbly state! I’m glad the hospital experience was good, at least children seem to be spared the stress and anxiety of waiting rooms. Hope you and your little patient can have a few days rest.
Claire,
Thank you again. Single-handedly you are restoring my hope for the Irish hospital system. Ever since bring Grace here, I’ve been worried about what would happen if she were really ill. I was afraid of the dirt, the waiting, and the competence. Slowly I relax a bit. Thanks.
“I’m trying to write this without inflicting too many descriptive words on you,” – I loved that: a writer conscious of her readers and of her own style. I can learn from you.
On hospital trolleys: I spent a night on one in Swindon general hospital. I was pushed into a bathroom for the night. I spent the night alone with an empty bath. If I’d had a ‘proper’ bed, I’d have been in a ward with three elderly people who coughed, spluttered and sounded off all night: I probably wouldn’t have slept well. The trolley wasn’t what I thought: it was a fully equipped hi-tech sleeping device, on which I could be raised and lowered hydraulically. I got some attention but mainly I enjoyed the enforced peace. I left 31 hours later, after overnight ‘observation’ and after someone was found to sign me out.
Our first winter in Mexico, Quincy got really sick and we had to take him to the hospital 5 days in a row to get a shot. Kim was pregnant so we thought we’d go to 5 different ones to check them all out. And being 2, it took Quincy a few trips before he started understanding what was going on. But by at least the 4th trip, though it was a new hospital, he knew why we were there. He put his little hands over is little bottom and started yelling, “no thanks momma, no thanks.” Cute now… broke our hearts then.