Our trip to the ER

If any of you know my husband well, the events of this story will probably not surprise you. For those that don't know him, maybe they will. Either way, you will laugh.

Last night, we did our typical bedtime routine. Liam ate for a bit, and then it was time for a bath. Keith and I switch bathtime/dishes each night, and it was his night for bath. I finished the dishes about when he finished getting Liam into his PJ's, and I heard him call my name. I immediately recognized panic in his voice, so I went right up. Halfway up I heard him say, 'Liam just threw up blood.'

Ok. Stop. Little back info about Mr. Keith here. Keith tends to...let's see, how do I put this... exaggerate the truth at times. He stretches it, oh yes. We might even go as far as to say he dramatizes it. So while I was immediately concerned, I wasn't panicked.

I went up to our bed, and lo and behold...Blood! It was about tennis-ball sized, and was mixed in with milk/fluids from his tummy, so it looked like more than it actually was. 

Well, right about then, shit. hit. the. fan.

(Not literally, though we all know that in a house with a baby, that is quite possible.)

Keith was pretty much out the door in his underwear before I could even process what was happening. I told him to calm down (HA--Yeah RIGHT) and get dressed while I put my shoes on, turned some crap off etc.
(It's very much worth noting that Liam was acting fine. He was eating his hands, smiling, cooing, basically just his normal self. So I wasn't nearly as wigged out as dear ole dad. )

Since I knew we'd likely be in the ER for hours, I wanted to grab enough diapers, an extra blanket, our phone chargers, a water, etc. Just some stuff I knew we'd probably need.
Well, lemme tell you what, my ass about got LEFT. 

I mean. You'd think Liam's head had fallen off.

And this is where it gets good....

THE DOG GOT OUT.

 That's right. Just as we were locking up the door, Millie thought we were going for a ride.  

Tail wagging, tongue hanging out. She's just chilling, prancing around the yard like it's a bacon fest.

Me, being the cool, calm, collected one of the night, decided the smart thing to do would be to grab her and at least put her in the backyard.

Keith, being the irrational, psychotic spazz of the night, decided the smart thing to do would be to scream at her, that way she'd immediately comply and go in the house on her own accord.
Yeah, not so much.
So she ran off, and Keith decided that if I was going after her, I was definitely getting left.
(keep in mind that Liam was still fine. Not crying, coughing, seizing, hemmoraging, nada. And all this happened in a matter of 5 minutes.)

The ER is about 10 minutes away.
Longest 10 minutes of Keith's life. I should have driven.
Liam and I were chillin in the back seat, he was happy as a lark, and I was trying to get my husband not to kill us all en route.
 We pulled up to the door and he dropped us off, instructing me to check in and 'Tell them exactly what happened!'
(Just in case common sense had left my brain)

Thankfully, I got us checked in before Keith had parked.
I'm not sure the ER nurses could handle that hot mess.
We went to sit down and he asked me,
 'DID YOU TELL THEM HE'S BLEEDING FROM THE STOMACHE!?'
My lordy you guys. I can't make this stuff up.

To make a long story not any longer, Liam is fine. The situation, as I suspected, was not quite as dire as some people made it out to be.
I sat there for two hours with a calm infant and a not-so-calm husband, who was wondering why heart attack victims took precedence. 

Turns out, Liam (most likely) ingested a little bit of blood while nursing. 

I have nipple thrush, and the side he was nursing on was bleeding. 

(YES, it hurts like the flames of hades).

I actually had thought that may be the case waaay back before we even left the house, but we were going to the ER either way. 

 

I tell this story with humor because it's funny now, but it definitely wouldn't be funny had something been seriously wrong, and I'm grateful my boy is both happy and healthy.

 

(Oh, and Millie survived, too. We called a neighbor, who was kind enough to go out and find her at 9:30 pm and keep her for the night!)

Here's to hoping we never do have a true emergency. I'm keeping a sedative on hand for Keith. 

Just in case. 

:)