and ended up in the toilet. Or, at least, it would be the toilet if we could convince Alex to throw up in the toilet instead of on towels. Still, towels are better than floors. Or us.
So I got home after a busy morning (and a great meeting with Alex's teacher and therapists--things are much better at school) with a tired Miranda refusing to nap and after we'd been home almost an hour, the nurse calls from school to say at about 2 pm Alex turned pale and climbed into an aide's lap, whimpering. So I put Miranda back in the car and raced back to school to pick up a whimpering boy.
We came home and he went to bed and was asleep almost instantly, which immediately caused me to freak out. The last time Alex did that he was like 6 months old. I had left a message at the Pediatrician's office on my way to school (I did way too much driving while phoning today) and waited impatiently for him to call back at 4. (I couldn't reach either of my parents by phone at that moment which made me even more upset. I don't care how old I am; talking to them helps to calm me down.) Wonderful Dr. Monaco said to bring him in, so I called Mimi the Great to ask her to meet us there so she could deal with Miranda while I was with Alex.
It was an unpleasant trip there (30 minutes), an unpleasant exam (Alex had developed a fever on the way to the office) and when we walked back out to the car (Miranda had fallen asleep in the car right before we arrived at the office so Mimi stayed outside with her) Alex promptly threw up in the street. We had another unpleasant ride home of both children crying but Daddy was home soon after us, which made everything better.
The long and short of it is Alex has flu-like symptoms and I defy anyone who's been watching the news lately not to jump to conclusions and say swine flu. Ugh.
So, he's dry-heaving now between playing rounds of golf on the Wii (while sitting down). He is the most pathetic thing in the world when he's sick. And he threw up on Beloved Brown Blanket, which is now in the dryer. It'll be dry in an hour, when, hopefully, he'll be empty enough to go to bed. Then we can go to bed. Hopefully.
Pray for us.