Everett's EEG was Friday at 12:30. They require that you arrive an hour ahead of time . . . to wait around in the office in case the baby goes to sleep on the way to the doctor because it is a sleep deprived EEG.
YOU ARE REQUIRED TO KEEP HIM UP 3-4 HOURS THE NIGHT BEFORE, SKIP HIS MORNING NAP, AND THEN SOMEHOW ENTERTAIN HIM IN THE DOCTOR'S OFFICE FOR AN HOUR. (sorry for the yelling)
In fact we were both sleep deprived from Seizure Watch. I mean "butt stupid" tired . . . and I don't really even know what that means but am slightly aware that a classy person wouldn't say it. But, I am neither classy nor have had more than two hours of sleep in a row since Tuesday. Point Made.
One half-hour before the appointment, I had to give him prescription Benadryl. Have no idea how that is different than the over-the-counter stuff. I just follow the directions.
There wasn't a private place I could give him his medication. They told me to go out and give it to him in the waiting area . . . the waiting area for the building, not the doctor's office. I did, he threw-up, and boy did those chunks fly. And they flew all over the nice chocolate brown leather couch that we were sitting on . . . as people passed by each one oggling us. (I am sure I wasn't paranoid.)
Acid Reflux + Cold + Discomfort + Weird Medicine=THROW UP!!!
(My very scientific formula)
The readers of this blog aren't strangers to acid reflux and colds together causing throwing up for Everett. When it does happen in our family, I am usually at home and can change, throw him in the tub, and do a load of laundry--or think about doing one.
Panic mildly set in as I stripped down Everett trying to console him. I brought an extra outfit for him. Not for me. SIGH. How am I going to get both of us and the couch cleaned?----well, I won't exactly admit that he crawled around almost naked in the building's waiting area as I tried to clean up, and I won't exactly admit that I only left a chunk or two on the couch. I did my best.
I turned my shirt inside out and around so I wouldn't have to smell the throw up as strongly. I looked pretty cool and smelled mightily delicious. I was also able to clean the chunks out of my hair, but my hairdo just wasn't the same.
And, then the wait continued until our turn. We looked great(!), we smelled even better, he cried a lot (I wanted to join in), and strangely I felt like a silly woman with 2 large diaper bags sitting beside me in the waiting room. That room couldn't be big enough. Thank the heavens he did not have a huge running poop diaper right then and there, too.
After much praying, sending silent promises to heaven, giving that wretched medication, rocking him to sleep, pleading with him to sleep, silently threatening him to sleep, and thinking that I would just leave and not get this stupid thing done, Everett did fall asleep. The technician was able to put all the probes on his head. He slept without pulling them off and rolling over. We left relatively unscathed, smelling of sour milk, and acting drunk. Well, Everett was drunk from the drugs. mean drunk. (and he looked like he had rubbed honey all in his hair which was kind of cute)
Thankfully, we were able to pick Erik up in Crystal City (near the Pentagon), and Erik took Everett duty for a couple of hours.
EEG-DONE
Had to take a picture
We actually tried to get a good picture of Everett. I wasn't lying about being mean drunk.
If I had to describe the experience yesterday . . . horror doesn't begin to describe it. When taking an infant to a sleep deprived EEG, plan as if you are going on a flight and remember to bring an extra shirt for you.
