Before kids, when I thought about the word “viral”, I would think about that video of the sneezing panda, Charlie bit my finger, or that girl who burned a full section of her hair off when she was curling it.
Nowadays, viral has a whole new meaning, and quite an annoying one too.
These past few days, O has suffered terribly with a vomiting bug. I’ve started taking him to play groups so mixing with other kids is bound to be a disaster, as you can imagine.
Friday night was when it started, and he had woken up at 11pm and projectile vomited all over his cot. He hadn’t been sick for ages, so he was very unaware of what had happened. I could tell he was scared and he didn’t understand why we were so panicked either, and to add to that, he stunk of sour cheese and had chilli con carne remnants all over him, which obviously was the cherry on top for me.
Then Saturday and Sunday were just as bad. We were giving him limited amounts of things, in hope that he’d keep them down, but also reducing the clean up job that we knew we would be faced with ten minutes later.
|I ran 10 hot washes and used almost 3 bottles of zoflora in 4 days. On the plus side, my house smells lovely. Ha!|
Monday was when the shits began, and when I say it was an experience, believe me, it was. I had no idea what to do. It was just flying out of him, and I didn’t feel anywhere near equipped enough, especially on my own. Then yesterday (Tuesday) he projectile vomited on a mass scale across my mams kitchen (she is a huge germaphobe too, which must’ve been her worst nightmare. She’s probably still scrubbing the floor now – sorry mam!), and at that point, I thought ‘enough is enough’.
I rang 111. I had already spoken to a lovely woman on Saturday, and she told me if it carries on for 48 hours to ring back. The woman on the phone yesterday was actually horrific in comparison, and had the “I’m just here to do my job” attitude. She was extremely unimpressed whenever I deviated from her questions, which can never be answered correctly by anyone, apparently.
“Does he have stomach pain?”… “Yes”… “But is it crippling pain where he can’t walk?”… “No”… “Okay, so he doesn’t have stomach pain then?”
For fuck sake. That’s not what you asked.
I mean, the 111 service is pretty useless if you ask me.
Every time I have called them, they either send an ambulance or tell you to phone your doctor, which I could’ve done myself in the time it takes to get through on 111 anyway. Despite me telling her O had no temperature, hadn’t lost any blood, was quite clearly hydrated and his usual self apart from the vomiting, she insisted on him being seen at the hospital and made an appointment for him.
So off we went.
A £3 parking charge and a 45 minute wait later, we got told what we always get told. It’s viral.
Fucking viral. The worst words you can hear when your child is ill. Instead of “viral”, what they should say, is “We don’t actually know what it is, could be anything, so can’t prescribe anything… Calpol will help, probably? Maybe”.
We’ve heard it so many times, and it gets more and more annoying every time.
All of the people I know with children refuse to go to the doctor anymore or walk in unless there is something seriously wrong. I know there probably isn’t much they can do, but it does feel like you are being fobbed off a bit. When your child is extremely ill, not eating and being sick violently, you don’t want someone to tell you to wait it out as it’s just ‘a common bug’, but that’s what you get.
Food poisoning, a stomach bug, a cough, a cold, constipation, diarrhoea, a broken leg. All viral. Obviously.
Fingers crossed he will be on the mend soon, but I have been very absent from my blog and social media the past few days so thought you deserve an angry rant/explanation as to why.
Even if it was a bit too much information. Sorry folks.