Twice the fun!

Rob here.

How can you tell how much fun you had over Christmas time?

Obviously, its by the number of trips to the emergency room. You already heard of one great trip to the ER, but it didn't stop there. Oh no, we had twice the fun this year.

So on Friday night we thought all was going smoothly. Tasha was feeling a lot better and we all settled in for some toys and good food. In my case, apparently too much good food.

We normally read the kids some stories before bedtime and then send them off to bed. I had been carrying Ty around all day, he just can't seem to leave my side when I am home, so my back was kind of sore. As I lay on the floor trying to stretch things out, I started having the worst cramps in my stomach that I had ever had. I thought about calling for an epidural or maybe a c-section, but I didn't think that would do the trick. Steph finished with the stories and got the kids in bed and came back to find me on the floor, ready to die. She talked to Angie, our great neighbor downstairs, who came up to stay with the kids.

So off we were for round 2 of the ER. I kept thinking how this better be something good, like an alien in my stomach ready to come out, or I would be totally bummed about a second trip. With the cramps in my stomach and the aching back, I just couldn't find a comfortable position. And it seemed like everything was taking way too long. You would never believe that a stop light in Greenwich can be red for 3 and a half hours, but it sure felt like it that night. Even when we got to the ER it seemed like everyone was conspiring against me to prolong my pain. The family in line in front of us was there with teenager with a runny nose and a sore throat. I could see on the monitor that the other patients ahead of us were all there for some pretty minor complaints. However, in my state that night, I would have said I was in worse shape than someone with a case of flesh eating bacteria. I'm sure they all had very valid reasons for being there, but I didn't care.

When they finally took me in there were no beds, apparently a lot of people were having a really fun Christmas. The found a cot for me in the hallway and started a IV. What a magical thing! The must have put the happy juice in there, because as soon as it started to flow I felt much better. No pain killers, no antibiotics, no drugs of any kind. Just regular saline IV fluid. (I need to get one of those for the house.)

I took down two bags and felt 100% better. The doctor couldn't find anything else wrong with the blood work so he drew straws and called it viral gastroenteritis, which I guess is the medical term for "stop being such a baby."

So as proof that we had at least twice as much fun as any other family out there, here is my pose with a band aid and a hospital band, to match Tasha's.