... and Firefly is (almost completely) back to her usual self. She "talked" up a storm tonight, possibly debriefing her hospital stay. ("There is a big building. With scratchy sheets. And they poke you! Warn the babies!")
Thank you so much for your well wishes on her behalf. She came down with stomach flu on Saturday. The virus had run its course after a few days, but her little digestive system got stuck in a rut and she couldn't keep even tiny amounts of liquid down. By Tuesday we were concerned about dehydration, so we took her to see the doctor. She got a dose of anti-nausea medication in hopes that it would give her tummy a chance to rest and "reset," but once it wore off she was back to spewing. On Wednesday it was back to the doctor's and ultimately to the hospital.
The doctor and nurses were surprised at how bad off she was when her blood work came back, because she wasn't showing many outward signs. Firefly's only visible symptoms of dehydration were lethargy, a dry mouth and a sunken fontanel (soft spot), which apparently are more mild indicators. T and I could look at her and tell that something was really wrong; she was a completely different baby. Just a reminder to all the parents to trust our guts, I suppose. The medical professionals bring their training and experience the table, and we bring our intimate knowledge of this specific child. That's worth something.
Once she got on an IV and anti-nausea meds she plumped back up like a sponge. She weighed twelve pounds when she was admitted yesterday morning and over thirteen by the time we left today. T pointed out that, percentage-wise, it's the equivalent of him missing twenty pounds.
So that's over. Phew! It was never scary, but it was draining. Hospitals are remarkably boring places. I did spot my old pediatrician roaming the ward. He must have been fresh out of med school when my parents took me to him thirty years ago!