Okay, I'm only posting this today so that I won't have back-to-back 52 posts. Guys, blogging on holiday is just more than I can muster. Too much relaxing. (Actually not nearly enough relaxing. That's the nature of the expat holiday home. But that might be a problems-that-are-not-actually-problems post for an other day.)

Anyway, without further adoo...

So, I’ll tell you, one thing that makes for a memorable summer holiday is a hospital stay. Not that I’d reeeeally advocate this method of cementing cherished memories of summers past, but there you have it. We ended up in the ER with a very sick Hugo Bear.


Midway through our Michigan sojourn, Hugo developed a weird infection (??) rash (??) on his BCG injection site. I was worried enough to not consult Dr. Google but go directly to our Michigan paediatrician. They didn’t think much of it, but invited us back for a well baby visit two days later.


Two days hence Mr. H. M. Bear was not a very well baby.


He had a 40 degree fever, murder diapers, and vom fountains. I had a case of maternal anxiety / mild panic. Towards the end of the day on the Thursday, I called the doctor’s office to check if they thought I should bring Hugo to the hospital. They said go. 


And so we went.


I was expecting to be given a dose of Tylenol and perhaps a bag of fluids and sent on our merry way. I did not expect to spend the next five or so days in the hospital. But alas, that’s what happened.


Our first night in the ER was totally unpleasant. Especially for Mr. Bear. He was poked and prodded, feverish and barfy and he barely slept a wink. 


(An aside: I’ll tell you one thing, this was one instance where an excess of baby chub, which in other circumstances is so cozy and punchable, did not serve our interests. Super fat dehydrated babies, as it turns out, are near impossible to get an IV into. Can we talk about 13 pokes, 9 different people, and about 4 hours to get some fluids into this boy?? Yikes.)


The doctors were kinda stumped as to the cause of Hugo’s illness. They thought it might be an auto-immune disease, or perhaps a virus, or maaaaybe a tropical nasty. So erring on the side of caution, they had us in isolation and under contact precautions (which in case you didn’t know, because I sure didn’t, means a room with an air lock, and doctors / nurses / housekeepers / room service attendants in full gown / mask regalia.)


He underwent a million tests, all of which tuned up inconclusive. And so, Hugo’s illness remains a mystery.   


On day three? Four? of the hospital stay, Hugo’s fever reduced, and then finally broke. And after a day of resting, he perked right up. It took a few days to return to normal levels of Hugo smiles, but we got there after not too long. And boy am I glad.