Pits of Hell

Good evening, ladies and gentleman. I'm reporting live from the pits of hell. Okay, that's a bit of an exaggeration. I'm home with a grilled cheese and an enormous glass of wine. Matt's covering the night shift in the pits of hell. Will's in the hospital. Again.
He had a runny nose last Thursday, and the tell-tale cough started Friday morning. I had him in the pediatrician's office by Friday afternoon, and got the usual antibiotics/steroid prescription. But it didn't work. He got sicker over the weekend and kept running a high fever. We were back at the doctor's office Monday, and he busted out the big guns- three days of Rocephin shots. But they didn't work either. I was supposed to take him on Wednesday for his last shot and a follow-up with the doctor. After examining him, our pediatrician agreed that he wasn't getting better and sent us for a chest x-ray.
By "us" I mean me, Will and Hays. Matt and all the local grandparents were tied up, so I had to wrangle two toddlers through the hospital by myself and attempt to control them in the waiting room of the x-ray unit. That didn't go so well. The good news is that no matter how many people are waiting ahead of you, if you come in with two loud, rowdy toddlers that are attempting to dismantle the waiting area, they'll bump you right on up to the front of the line. The bad news is, Will had pneumonia.
So our doctor put him in the hospital early Wednesday afternoon. Thank God for our vast support network of grandparents that stepped in to help with the other two. Because of them, we've been able to keep things running relatively smoothly. We finally realized that it makes no sense for Matt and I to sit up in that little hospital room together. All that happens when we do is that I get bitchy and cranky and take it all out (unfairly) on Matt. But when I'm there by myself, I have to put on my big-girl panties and be the mom and act like a grown-up. So I've been taking the day shift and he's been spending the night. It pretty much sucks all the way around.
Today was especially sucky. Will's been pretty agreeable and easy going. (He's been too sick to be anything else) He's been super-polite to his nurses- thanking them for everything and just being cute in general. And that was what did me in this afternoon.
They put in an IV for his antibiotics yesterday. It took them two tries, but they finally got it in. However, by this afternoon it had clotted and was useless, so they had to try to put in a new one. The nurse tried once, and the vein blew. Second try, same results. The whole time, I'm holding him, talking to him while he's strapped down on a table, screaming. I can handle the screaming. What reduced me to a bawling mass of snot and tears was when he cried, "All done. Thank you. All done. Want to go home. Thank you, Mommy."
We gave it one last shot after he'd had a chance to calm down (and a popsicle), but it was no go. His veins just wouldn't cooperate. So after enduring three IV attempts, he had to get ANOTHER shot of Rocephin. And he gets one more tomorrow. That makes a grand total of NINE needle sticks in five days.
But it's finally working. He's getting better. He sounds better, not great, but better. And his fever is gone. As long as it stays gone tonight, he'll get one more shot tomorrow morning and then they'll send him home. We're sooooooo ready to be done with the hospital. It's so boring, and time just drags interminably. Not to mention trying to keep Will somewhat entertained when he feels good enough to play. So keep all your fingers and toes crossed that he stays fever-free tonight and we're all home tomorrow, and we don't see the inside of the hospital again this year. I mean, we love St. Mary's, and we love those nurses, but I would be 100% okay with never setting foot in there again.