Two ER Visits Later...

ER visit #1:
Eliza and I went to the library to pick up my library books that I had on reserve. I was seriously in there for a total of 30 seconds. Eliza is a little sneak and loves to run away from me. She climbed up the stairs, refused to come down, and so I proceeded to chase her up the stairs. I held her hand on the way down the stairs because she no longer lets me carry her down the stairs. She's getting independent, no? She jumped down as I was holding her hand, and I heard a loud "POP," followed by screaming, screaming, screaming. Oh, geez. I finally got her into the car to head home. The rest of the night she cried on and off, whenever we moved her arm. She just held it against her belly and refused to use it. But if we're being honest, there was one perk: Eliza cuddled with me for hours! This is a first. Anyway, by the next morning I realized that this injury wasn't getting better on its own. I called my pediatrician and the nurse kindly informed me that they couldn't fit me in and to go to the ER. So I did. Trust me, I know that maybe this wasn't a legitimate emergency, but the nearby urgent care centers weren't open and I was sick of listening to my baby cry. So we went to the ER and in about 90 seconds the nurse determined that it was Nursemaid's Elbow, which happens when the lower part of the arm slips out of its normal position at the elbow joint. So basically a dislocated elbow. Ouch! Apparently this is quite common when you lift your child by the wrist or hand of only one arm or swing your child. Or apparently when you try to hold them up when falling. I blame myself, yes, but I figure this was a better alternative to a broken face and falling down the stairs. The doctor gently bent her elbow while turning the lower arm, and abracadabra, it was fixed. Eliza was using her arm again in two minutes. I am such an ignoramus. With a little internet browsing I could have diagnosed this in minutes. Or maybe not...

ER visit #2
Symptoms: Harsh, bark-like cough, diarrhea, fever, poor appetite or fluid intake, breathing excessively fast.
I know what you're all thinking: croup. And you are right. Unfortunately, I didn't connect the dots there. I went in to check on Eliza around midnight on Monday. She was breathing almost 55 breaths a second, which is a lot, and going into severe coughing fits. Again, I called the pediatrician's office, spoke to a nurse, and she kindly instructed me to rush, and I mean RUSH, Eliza to the hospital. So I did. When I got there I waited for an hour to get a room, two hours to see a resident, another half hour to see the attending doctor, and then another few minutes to get a dose of steroids, which will help her breathing. I thought the whole point of the emergency room was to see a doctor promptly? I was a little peeved. Not that I don't think there were patients in worse condition than Eliza, but I thought the process was a tad lengthy, don't ya think? At least we got to watch Olympic ice dancing for a few hours. It was that or High School Musical 3. Tough choice. So aside from getting 3 1/2 hours of sleep that night, I am recovered. Eliza not so much--apparently we'll just have to wait it out, poor thing! I am just hoping, from this experience, that if I were truly having an emergency (i.e. bleeding to death on the ER floor) someone would attend to me lickety-split.