Funerals, Casts and Car Trips

At the risk of sounding overly pessimistic, I would hate to say that this past weekend was "the worst weekend ever," only because recent circumstances are revealing to me that just when you think things can't get worse, they do. So to say that recent days were "the worst ever," would only tempt fate to challenge my assumption that this is as bad as it can get, and I don't want to be proven wrong. I might not survive it.

My grandfather, passed away a week ago today, and his funeral was Saturday in Hutchison, KS. I will miss his stories and his smile when he saw me. I will miss him at Christmas each year and am just glad that I have recent fond memories.

But in the grand scheme of life, I'm sure that when we look back we realized that the times we coped the best are when we found humor amongst the sorrow.

This weekend Shannon was surprised to find himself experiencing many firsts:
1. First time in Kansas.
2. First time in Kansas in mid-January (which, for any of you who do not know - um, it's cold. It's cold and snowy and windy.)
3. First time to attend a Catholic Mass
4. First time to have to remove a tired, cranky baby from a Catholic Mass.
5. First time as a pall bearer
6. First time as a pall bearer in a Catholic funeral
7. First time as a pall bearer in a Catholic funeral in below-freezing temperatures while a priest throws holy water over the casket.

If two surgeries, a death, a seven hour car trip, a funeral weren't enough to fill our quota of bad things for the last week, my mom slipped on the ice just before the funeral and was wheeled around most of the day in a wheelchair. My brother jokingly fired himself from the job after he almost dumped her out of it twice, and my mom laughed with everyone when they joked that she just did it for attention. After the funeral she went to the hospital, and the verdict is.... broken foot, walking cast, crutches, the whole enchilada.


As we usually do when things get sad, we brought out the alcohol and made fun of each other. We ate pizza and drank beers at my Aunt Becky's house. Adam stayed for a while but wasn't feeling well so Shannon took him back to the hotel (where Adam gave Shannon "Hell all night"). It was good to see my cousins again and meet their kids, some of them for the first time. The bourbon flowed easily and the toasts kept coming . . . and all of the grand kids were able to take home one beer stein from Grandpa's collection. And at the end of the night, I drove my mom and my sister home. Chris went out to the crazy Hutchison bars.

So before we left for Kansas on Friday, we knew that Adam was getting sick. He had a horrible, hacking cough and a constantly running nose. But he was great on the car ride there. He slept the first half, played for a bit, and slept the last hour and a half or so. He acted like he felt okay. On Saturday it was worse, but not horrible. He was tired and over-stimulated but he dealt with it. By Saturday night he was starting to run a fever and sleeping much more. On Sunday it was worse and he didn't want to be put down.
 
He slept soundly the second he got in the car on Sunday, and we stopped at Outback to stretch our legs, get some lunch and feed him too. We hadn't realized that he really wasn't feeling well, and for the first time he was actually fussy and crying at the restaurant and making a scene. He had finished a full 8 ounce bottle in the car about an hour beforehand and had a clean diaper, and I had resorted to putting him in my lap while I ate my salad.
 
But before we knew it, he was gagging and vomiting all over himself, all over me, and all over the booth. Shannon jumped up with a napkin to try to control some of the damage, but it was probably the most vomit we've dealt with all at once. And believe me, there has been a lot. I was covered in it. We stripped Adam of his sweatshirt and he was still crying. We got some dirty looks, some looks of pity, and while we were trying to figure out how to either get the hell out of there or get him settled somewhere, an old couple was seated next to us and I heard the man complain to the hostess that they were sitting him next to an upset child.

Sorry, Sir. I understand that your lunch is inconvenienced. We wouldn't have brought him in if we thought he would have ruined your day.

The manager and the waitress came up and asked if he wanted some crackers or something to snack on, and I said, "No. He's not feeling well and we'd actually just like to have our food to go." Shannon reminded them that we'd need to-go cups. I was covered in vomit, Adam was still upset, and our food had just been placed on our table. I left Shannon to the packing up of the food and the check while I took Adam to the car, where I realized that his fever was actually pretty high (although I had no thermometer). It was so high that he was kinda dreamy and giggling at me, which he does when he's delirious. It's adorable and scary at the same time. But I was making funny noises at him too, so maybe I'm just really, really funny. That's probably what it was.

Shannon brought out our food, my purse, the vomit-covered clothes, the diaper bag, the coats in one weighed-down trip and he said he just started chunking things in in the rush to get out of there. I had to laugh when I saw silverware, cloth napkins, and porcelin butter dishes thrown in with my stuffed tilapia. Sorry, Outback. But two minutes back on the highway, Shannon asked if it was the best $40 lunch I've ever had. Ha.

We ate on the road, and drove the 3 hours back covered in vomit. I probably had extra pants
packed in the back of the pick up, but at that point all I could think of was home, shower, and bed. I wiped Adam down with baby wipes and gave him more Tylenol to get his fever down, and he slept the rest of the way. We made it home by 5. He threw up again before I could finish feeding him dinner, got a bath, and a nap from 6 to 8:30, when he woke up crying. We were worried that he'd have his days and nights mixed up, but then he slept all night (minus a 2 am feeding that Shannon graciously took care of).

This morning he seemed to feel much better and didn't have a fever so I took him to daycare. At 10:00 they called me to pick him up because of another fever. I brought him home, let him take a 2 and a half hour nap, and when he woke up I made him a bottle, put him in his bouncy chair in front of the TV and turned on Cars. After his bottle I gave him a little bit of pears, and he promptly threw up an entire 8 ounces of formula. The doctor appointment is scheduled for tomorrow at 10am.

Is it still only January?