we're back from urgent care. thanks to the patience of a great male nurse who took the time to squirt gatorade down her uncooperative throat one ML at a time (something she wouldn't let me do, mind you), we avoided an IV. It took a very long time, and her fever spiked to 103 while we were there, so I was so glad we went. Her poor little teeth were chattering and shivering, but we got the latest dose of motrin and phenegern suppository in and the temp is down some.
another long night, but at least enough liquid in her to get that precious pee I was looking for.
oye.
Interestingly, the female pregnant doctor was an absolute snot. Brought in two flavor ices (like I hadn't been down THAT road) and walked out, which Jenna flat out refused and which sent her into such chills from just looking at them that I had to cover her in the comforter I brought just to keep her from chattering off the table.
then my "don't you fuck with us" hormone went into high gear and I walked out into the nurse's station and read that hussie doctor the riot act. Never saw her again, thank goodness; instead the patient male nurse sat with us for over an hour, showing Jenna the option: IV versus Gatorade. She's a smart cookie. She opted for the plunger.
We're home. suppository where it's supposed to be. all is right with the world.
more when I have brain cells.
