The Healing Power Of A Fry



Not feeling well during Abby's soccer game

 So, apparently Noah does not do well with shots.

He had his one-year check-up this past week.  The night before his appointment, he woke up in the middle of the night with a fever.  Good timing-at least we already had an appointment lined up.

The fever was from an ear infection (following in the footsteps of his siblings with their constant ear infections).  He went through the torture or being examined by the doctor, received his shots, then dealt with stopping for meds to make him feel better.

Sometimes I wish the doctors had pharmacies right in their office so that we do not have to run another errand with a sick child.

Anyway, I figured Noah would sleep better that night from his meds.  After all, my other three always did.

Nope.  Up a lot, just wanting to be held and still running a fever.

He perked up a bit on Saturday, just long enough for us to go to the soccer games.  However, by night time (why is it always night time when they bring on their true colors?) he was not feeling well again.  By Sunday morning, his temperature was 104.1.

Yes, I panicked.

The doctor saw him that morning and sent him over to Children's for blood work.  As if the kid had not been
through enough already.  Drawing blood from a sick one-year old...not fun.  I felt my eye make-up running a bit while I held back tears for his pain.

Thankfully, the blood work proved that he was okay and that the fever was simply the result of a reaction to his shots.  Seriously?  I have him get shots to prevent getting sick, only to have sick child who will not eat, drink or leave my arms?

Two days later and he is finally getting back to his usual self.  He is still a bit clingy, but at least he is eating and drinking. 

I must admit, I did enjoy the closeness while he was sick.  He just wanted to cuddle and sleep in my arms.  It has been a long while since he has wanted to do that. 

Of course, he was a bit spoiled during that time, so now he still thinks he has to be in my arms all of the time.  Sorry buddy.  You are one of three kids.

My favorite part of this entire experience was the turning point.  Sunday night, Abby and I got home from a birthday party just in time for dinner, which Nick was not able to make because Noah would not leave his arms, leaving us to get some fast food.  Noah sat there, watching us eat, and the moment he saw the french fries, he smiled and reached for one.

I promise, the kid has maybe had one fry in his life.

He ate that fry and enjoyed every bit of it.  Then another.  Then another.

Hey, after not eating for two days, I had no problem with it.