Dad's Long 24 Hours

The Missus went out to dinner with a doctor last night. Well, sort of. She and a bunch of other diabetes nurses had dinner downtown at Vidalia. She periodically goes to one of these dinners, which are sponsored by a pharmaceutical company. It usually features a doctor as a guest speaker talking about some topic or other. She had the crab appetizer and the grilled shrimp. I microwaved a bean burrito for dinner.

So it was just me, the twins and my nine usable fingers. Have you ever tried to change a diaper without using your left index finger? I don't recommend it. We got through the night okay--both kids were pink-cheeked and happy when they went to bed--but they are a handful, even when you have the full use of both your hands.

My finger bothered me just enough to make for a sleepless night. I called in sick to work because I am nervous about making my long commute when very groggy. The Missus took the kids to daycare and I got some sleep in the morning.

Around 1:30, I got the call. You know, the call that every parent dreads: "Adam is running a temp of 102, can you come pick him up?" The Missus was teaching class and could not be reached. I called the pediatrician's to get an appointment, trying not to freak out too much. Then the phone rang again: "Tessa's sick too." Another call to the doctor's office.

I tried not to speed on the way to pick them up, and was successful at least part of the time. When I arrived, Adam greeted me with a big toothless smile. He seemed to be okay. I was relieved. I didn't know what to expect, they'd never had a fever before. Poor Tessa was asleep, but I had to wake her up. I struggled to get them in the carseats without banging my finger, and was successful at least part of the time.

The doctor thought it might be sinus infections. Both kids have been sniffling and snorting for the past couple of weeks, but she didn't rule out some other kind of virus. The Missus and I live in fear of RSV, a respiratory virus that is especially dangerous for preemies. The doctor couldn't rule it out and told me to make sure we checked their breathing for the next couple of days. Though both their lungs were clear for now, it might very well be the start of something worse.

Picture this: it is time to leave the office. Both kids are just in a diaper. I'm trying to get Adam dressed. He's crying and I can't get the stupid snaps on his onesie closed without my left index finger. The doctor is kindly holding onto Tessa, but Tess hates being their and is screaming like she's never screamed before. I finally get them dressed, but they still need to go in the carseats. Above all, I'm worried sick that they are going to get seriously ill. It was one of the worst moments I've had since I have become a father.

My despair only lasted a moment. I got the kids in their seats. Tessa calmed down. A nurse rebandaged my finger for me. I even had a chuckle when the lady at the front desk pointed at my finger and said, "I just have to ask: did one of your kids bite you?"

The kids are now, like their father, on antibiotics and we're going to keep our eyes on them. I hope they recover soon. I'll keep you posted.