ER Visit

We had our first (and hopefully only) ER visit August 30th, when Samson was nine weeks old. I had just finished breastfeeding him and picked him up on my shoulder to burp him and immediately he spit up and the coloring looked weird. I took him and the burp rag off my shoulder to assess the coloring. There was blood in the spit up.

 

Because it was a Sunday, I called the on-call pediatrician. 

 

Pediatrician: What’s going on?

Me: My son is vomiting blood. 

Pediatrician: When did this start?

Me: 20 minutes ago. 

Pediatrician: Has it stopped?

Me: No.

Pediatrician: That is a 911 call. 

Me: Ok, thank you, bye.

 

Immediately I started crying. Fortunately my dad, the voice of reason, was there and said, “How about you drive to the Phoenix Children’s Hospital? If you’re going to an ER, might as well be the best one.” 

 

So my mom drove, while I sat in the back with Samson. He wasn’t crying, and didn’t act like he was in pain. We got there and they told me to put the car seat in the red wagon and my backpack behind it. She rolled him inside to the check-in area and they got my information.

Then I turned around and the nurse asked me some questions, got his vitals and weight and height. 

 

Then we walked down a couple long hallways to the patient room. I told the nurse what was going on, showed her the picture of his spit up and she asked if I had a sore or cracked nipple. I told her that I do and she said that he probably was swallowing some of my blood and it irritated his stomach. She said that is what she thinks and the doctor will come in to verify. He came in 10 minutes later and agreed that it was my blood. 

 

When I was on my way to the hospital, my husband, Josh, looked it up and read the same thing the doctor said; he called me on the phone and told me that. But I didn’t believe him. I thought that if I was bleeding, I would see it. 

 

My husband has never gone to school for anything medical, but he is smart. He tends to be right about this kind of stuff. He, honestly, has done a better job diagnosing or treating things than trained professionals. 

 

Nearly 4 years after my car accident I was still taking Zoloft and Concerta, which is similar to Ritalin.  Josh thought I would be better off without them. I talked to my psychiatrist about it and she agreed. She recommended a medically approved way to wean off the pills, but when I tried it that way I wasn’t able to follow through and ended up back on the pills. Josh had me do it a better way. It took a couple months to completely wean off them, but it was a smooth transition and I haven’t felt like I even had a brain injury since then. 

Back to the ER story. Samson did not act like he was in pain; he didn’t hardly cry and he was even smiling at the nurses. They were probably wondering why I was even there, but they didn’t give me any grief or think I was crazy for bringing him in. If he had been crying, I would not have been so calm and anxiety-free. 

We were in the ER for about an hour and a half, and after spitting up blood a few more times he fell asleep. Every time, it was a different person that came into the room. The ER was slow on that Sunday evening; they were all taking turns getting to see the cutest baby on the floor.

We got home and he was not spitting up blood anymore and I made sure to take better care of myself so that I can take better care of my child.

I thank God that it was not serious, and pray that I never have to return.

Have you had any scares that seemed a lot more serious than they actually were?