Up half the night

My six-year-old snores like a longshoreman. Or a ninety-year old man. Or something.

When I was putting him to bed last night, he said, "mommy, my head hurts, I need to go to sleep." I thought that was odd, but, I turned off his light and shut the door and it seemed like he fell asleep right away. (Usually we have about 4 trips back and forth from his room to wherever Husband and I are - "what time will the sun come up?" and "what word is this?" (he likes to read before he falls asleep). Last night, nothing.

Then, at 10:30, when I was reading a book and Husband was already asleep, Gabe stumbled into our bedroom, holding his head and crying. "mommy. mommy. mommy. my head. my headache." he said, over and over.

He was holding the back of his head and I immediately jumped to the worse case scenario of meningitis - terrified of being back in the hospital. (We had an incident last summer where Gabe was in the hospital for three days with a fever of 105 degrees, and people kept using terrifying words like "meningitis" and "leukemia" - and while it turned out to be a bad virus and none of those scary things - the frightening possibilities of the bad, horrible, wretched things that can happen to your baby, and the vision of my baby plugged into IVs and machines - well, it haunts a person.)

I put my hand under his pajama top, expecting to find that he was burning up with fever, but, he was almost cold. His skin felt funny, papery. "Too dry" was the thought that jumped to my mind.

Then I remembered the wicked headaches that used to hit us without warning, the year we lived in Tucson, AZ. "The dehydration headaches" we called them. (We were transplanted midwesterners - the idea that we could be losing tons of water in the desert heat without feeling sweaty - it never occurred to us. We began to understand why everyone carried water with them everywhere they went.)

"I bet he has a dehydration headache" I said to Husband. "He was outside at the zoo all day with his friend R~, and then when he came home he played basketball with the little girl down the road for almost two hours. He hasn't had enough to drink."

At this point Gabe was hysterical and clinging to my husband - hyperventilating, unable to control his own hysteria, which he wailed, "I can't stop crying. I can't stop crying. I can't get a breath, I can't get a deep breath."

I had to coax him to take some junior strength Advil. Then, he refused water, and because he was still hysterical, he couldn't seem to swallow anything. Husband went downstairs and found some Gatorade - the red kind, Gabe's favorite.

We told him if he could calm down, he could have red Gatorade, as much as he wanted. He slowly got himself under control, and then he laid like a lump in the center of our bed, cradling his head in his hands. He reached out for the cup and the straw, and slowly but steadily, and at a really odd angle (so that his head didn't leave the pillow) drank about 10 oz. of red Gatorade.

He then fell asleep, smack in the CENTER of Husband and my bed. Efforts to move him to one side or the other were fruitless - "don't...move...me" he murmers.

Husband went to sleep in the guestroom. I didn't feel comfortable leaving him, so, I slept at the edge of the bed all night, listening to the sound of my six year old sawing logs like you wouldn't believe.

I don't think a skinny little boy should snore so much. So, I think I am going to call the doctor about that.

I have the morning off, so, I think I am going to try to catch some more sleep, while Gabe watches Peep in the Big Wide World...this morning he seems to be perfectly fine, though I've poured him another big cup of Gatorade, which he is drinking pretty steadily.

I am anxious for the Fed Ex truck to come...

LM