I have like 20m of schoolwork to do today! Then I can write like the wind - hopefully. This three day buffer thing is going to kill me, though the first chapter for Friday is nearly done. Plot bunny caught me off-guard though... We'll have to see how that works out - almost made me like Lana though and we can't have that...
Thanks to Nancy, Beth and Alisha. Thanks also to those who answered my questions about the pH probe test in OT - didn't want to ask it as an FFQ. See 'Nate' when he was admitted to the hospital at the end of this thread [okay, it's really my son a week before he was admitted last year - pretend that, instead of sitting next to a 2.5 yo girl, he's next to a little boy who looks a lot like a young Clark Kent].
Hospitalist: doc who works with patients only while they are in the hospital, in this case a pediatric hospitalist
Last time:
Clark
There was no other option at this point. They'd all been exhausted.
And now, my son, the half-alien, was going to the hospital to be poked and prodded and studied and who knew what else.
My dad's voice from my years growing up echoed in my head. Dissect you like a frog, dissect you like a frog. The refrain was repeating over and over.
"I don't know what else to do, Clark. We've tried *everything*." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "They won't find anything different. Will they? They'll want more blood work and urine tests... But I can't okay this without knowing you're okay with it."
We'd already had blood work done and urine tests and they'd all come back normal – no sign of alien hunters or anything wrong, for that matter.
I sighed. "Okay. Let's admit him. We have to do what we have to do."
If worse came to worse, I'd fly us all off to the North Pole.
I ran a weary hand down my face.
For now...
Kryptonian or not...
They were admitting my three-month-old son to the hospital.
*~*114*~*
~~~~~
Lois
~~~~~
They were admitting my three-month-old son to the hospital.
My half-Kryptonian three-month-old son.
We'd talked for hours with Martha and Jonathan over the last couple weeks. I don't think they'd really grasped the potential seriousness of the situation until Martha arrived in Metropolis and saw him – how little he was, even for a three-month-old preemie. His eyes were slightly sunken and his head was way out of proportion with the rest of his tiny body – much more so than most newborns.
When I looked at the pictures, he almost looked... alien.
I sighed as I rocked with him in his hospital room waiting for someone to come in and finish checking him in.
Daddy had agreed the night before that hospitalization might well be our next step, as much as we all hated the thought. Of course, he didn't understand the true reasons for our reluctance. We'd talked about telling him, but there wasn't really another option for Nate at this point – we'd have to hospitalize him whether Daddy knew about Clark or not – and so we'd decided not to at this point.
I looked up as the door opened. It was Clark.
"Hey," he said quietly, putting my suitcase down. I'd left it in the car and asked him to bring it up when he got here.
"Hi," I said in the same tone. "He's asleep."
"What'd they say so far?" He sat in one of the other chairs.
"Nothing yet. They're supposed to be in to finish paperwork in a few minutes and then the hospitalist will be in before long to talk about what we're going to do and when and what the potential options are and all of that."
As though on cue, the door opened and a lady came in wheeling a computer in front of her. She input all sorts of information about insurance and medical history and all of that. A few minutes after she left, Dr. Mayors came in.
We talked for over half an hour, detailing everything we'd tried, both of our medical histories, just about everything else.
He rattled off a long list of tests he wanted to do – EEG, EKG, Upper GI, ultrasounds of his kidneys – we shared a look at that; would Clark, and potentially Nate's, dense molecular structure affect that? – something with nuclear medicine, CAT scan, MRI and a number of other things I doubted I'd remember later.
"I think we can safely say that valve isn't working right," he told us. "The question now is whether that's the problem or the symptom."
"What could it be a symptom of?" Clark asked him.
"Well, there's a number of possibilities. My guess is that it's just that the valve isn't fully developed and that's the extent of the problem, *but* we want to make sure of that. It *could* be a sign of a heart problem or a neurological problem, for instance. The test I think will tell us the most is the pH Probe test, but... When was the last time you gave him Reglan?"
That was the most recent medicine. "This morning," I told him.
He nodded. "Okay. We won't be able to do the pH Probe test until Monday then. That has to be out of his system for 72 hours to do that. With that one, we'll put a little probe down his nose and it'll measure the acid in his throat."
"What if he has a good day?" I asked. "There's days he doesn't spit up hardly at all."
He shook his head. "It won't matter."
A tear streaked down my cheek. "That's something I'm afraid of. What if he has a good week while we're here? He's had them before where he's inexplicably gained four or five ounces and we can't figure out why. The next week he'd lose two ounces and the same thing – no explanation for the change that we can see."
He smiled reassuringly. "Mrs. Kent, I assure you that we're going to do our best to figure out what's wrong. Even if he does have a good week, we know that there's *something* going on with him and we're going to figure out what it is and go from there."
I nodded. "Thank you."
He sat forward and rubbed his hands together. "Okay, I’m going to go get this information into the computer and start getting those tests ordered. Tammy will be in here in a few minutes to get his crib set up. We'll put him on an incline and see if that helps some."
Sure enough, a few minutes later, a nurse came in and situated him on the bed, blankets rolled all around him to keep him in place.
"He's got reflux," she said confidently. "He acts like a reflux baby, the way he twists and arches his back. The Zantac didn't help?"
"Not really," I told her.
"Well, Dr. Mayors is getting all the tests ordered." She showed us his intake/output sheet where we'd record everything going in and coming out while we were there.
The doctor came back in and we discussed how he was going to eat for the next few days – I was going to pump as much as I could and every three hours we'd give him everything I'd pumped plus a little bit of formula to bring it up to three ounces total. He brought in a box of Human Milk Fortifier to add to the bottles.
We'd had my milk tested to make sure that it had enough calories and it had actually tested on the high side of normal so we knew that wasn't the problem, but adding extra calories to what he did keep down couldn't hurt either.
Finally, it was back to just the three of us in the room. Nate was sleeping peacefully in Clark's arms and another tear streaked down my cheek.
"He's going to be okay," Clark told me with a conviction I wasn't sure he felt.
"I know," I said, swiping at my cheeks. "But he's so little..."
"I know."
Clark took Nate to one side of the room while I pulled a curtain shut to pump.
Daddy and Martha walked in as I finished doctoring the pumped milk. Clark gave it to him and we talked to them until someone showed up to take Nate to have some test or other done. Daddy and Clark went with him – I didn't think I could handle watching my baby get poked and prodded.
Someone brought in a cot for me to sleep on, telling us we could rearrange the room however we wanted.
"How are you holding up, dear?" Martha asked when it was just the two of us left in the room.
I shrugged. "They're talking about running just about every test known to man on my son and they mentioned the possibility of surgery even. Even without... Clark, I'd be freaked out."
She reached out and grasped my hand lightly. "It's going to be fine."
"Everyone keeps telling me that, but..." I sighed. "I just want him to be healthy."
"I know, sweetheart. I know."
~~~~~
Clark
~~~~~
Sam and I followed the guy through the hospital complex halls and corridors and even a skyway or two before we reached the area where they were going to be running a number of tests on Nate. I'd held him in my arms the whole way, grateful that he was sleeping.
Even with my eidetic memory, I was having a hard time keeping track of everything.
It was almost two hours before we made it back to Nate's room.
Mom was rocking in the chair and Lois was curled up on the cot, exhausted.
"She hasn't been asleep long," Mom whispered.
"She's exhausted," I whispered back.
She slept for about thirty minutes before it was time for her to feed Nate again.
I'd planned on staying as late as they'd let me, but she shooed me out about seven, an hour or so after our parents left.
"Christopher needs to see at least one of his parents today," she told me.
I sighed and nodded. "Yeah, I saw him for a few minutes at breakfast but that's it."
"Go home and give him a big hug and kiss for me."
"I will." I stood and went to her side, bending down to give her a kiss on her forehead. "Call me if you need *anything* or can't sleep or whatever."
She nodded. "Okay. I will."
Nate was asleep and I noticed her opening her laptop as I left, probably to write a blog post. I needed to do the same thing in a while.
I made my way back to the house. Christopher ran up to me as I walked into our living room.
"Daddy! Daddy!"
I swung him up in my arms and around in a wide circle. "Hey, little man."
"Where Mommy an' Nate?" He was still in my arms, playing with the button on the top of my shirt.
Jessica motioned at me that she was heading out and I nodded, mouthing my thanks to her before turning back to my son.
"Nate's in the hospital, bud. He's sick and the doctors have to find out what's wrong with him."
"Gran'pa doctor," he said, still playing with the button.
"I know. But Nate needs a special doctor and Grandpa's not the right kind. Mommy has to stay at the hospital with him until they know what's going to make him better."
"Ca' I see 'im?" He sounded sad, and almost a bit scared.
"Sure. We'll go see him tomorrow, okay?"
He nodded.
I tipped his face back towards me with one finger. "He's gonna be fine, but you know what? Because Mom and Dad are going to have to be at the hospital with him some, that means you get to spend lots of time with Uncle Jimmy. He's going to be here tomorrow to hang out with you."
"Unca Ji'y?"
"Yep. You love playing with Uncle Jimmy."
Christopher nodded. "Wan' Mommy," he said, resting his head on my shoulder.
"I know, bud, but she has to stay with Nate until we can make sure he's healthy."
He heaved a sigh. "I know."
I carried him upstairs and we settled on to the twin bed in his room. "Go pick a book," I told him and he scrambled off the bed and over to his bookcase. He stood in front of it with his hands on his hips and, I was sure, a very serious look on his face. He finally selected two and brought them back over.
"'Bear Wants More' and 'Bear Snores On'?" Two of his favorites. He settled in next to me and I wrapped an arm around him, starting to read. He said the tag line with me every time through both books.
"Daddy," he said halfway through the second book. "We ca' Mommy?"
I looked down at him, surprised, and wondered why I hadn't thought of it. "Sure, we can call Mommy. Do you want to finish the book first?"
He shook his head. "No. Wanna talk to Mommy."
"Okay." I dug my cell phone out of my pocket, pressing the '3' button until it dialed 'Lois' cell'.
"Hello?" she said quietly on the second ring.
"Hey. How's it going?"
She sighed. "It's a blast, but you haven't been gone that long. What's up?"
"I've got someone here who wants to talk to you," I said with a smile.
"Good. I want to talk to him." I could hear the smile in her voice.
I pushed the 'speaker' button so I could hear both sides of the conversation and help interpret when necessary. Lois usually was able to decipher Christopher's speech better than me, but over a phone...
"Hi, Mommy!" Christopher said brightly.
"Hi, buddy. How are you?"
"Miss you, Mommy." He sounded sad.
"I miss you, too."
"How Na'?"
"He misses his big brother."
"He si'?"
"Yeah. He's sick but he's going to get better and he's going to need to you teach him how to do big boy stuff, okay?"
"'Kay."
"And now it's past your bedtime," she said sternly. "You tell Daddy it's bedtime."
Christopher giggled. "I s'eep wi' Daddy?"
Lois laughed. "You'd have to ask Daddy about that. I love you, Christopher."
"I wuv 'ou, Mommy."
"Let me talk to Daddy."
I took the phone off speaker. "I'll call you back in a little while, okay?"
"Okay. It's about time to feed Nate though, so give me a bit."
"You got it." We hung up.
"Daddy?" Christopher asked as I put the phone on the bed next to me.
"Yeah?"
"You wuv Mommy?"
"What?" I asked after a second of shock.
"You wuv Mommy?" he wouldn't look at me.
"Why do you ask that?"
He shrugged. "'ou don' say 'ou wuv Mommy."
"I love your Mom, bud."
I *did* love Lois, but probably not like he meant, though he probably didn't really know what he meant.
He reached over me and handed me my phone. "Shou' te' Mommy."
"I'll tell her later," I promised.
He frowned then nodded. "'Kay."
"And your mom's right. It's bedtime for you."
I laid him giggling on his back as I changed his diaper, wondering when he might decide he was ready to use the big boy potty – something he adamantly refused to even try to this point.
I carried him over to his bed and laid him on it, pulling his covers over him. I kissed his forehead. "Sleep tight. Love you."
"Wuv you. Te' Mommy."
"I will."
I headed to our room and floated onto the bed, pulling my phone out of the pocket. I called Lois and talked to her for a few minutes, getting a status report – nothing had changed. I told her I'd see her in the morning and we hung up.
I folded my hands behind my head and stared at the stars through the ceiling. Even Christopher was picking up that things weren't quite right between me and Lois.
I'd managed to evade Sam's question after Nate was born. Lois had called right after he asked me again what my plans were for the day after Christopher's fifth birthday and I'd left to talk to her. Sam hadn't been happy about it, but I'd been careful not to be alone with him since.
I sighed. Right now, I couldn't focus on that. Right now, I needed to focus on Nate and what we could do to get him healthy and on Christopher and making sure he wasn't feeling neglected while Nate was in the hospital. Jimmy was going to be staying at the house for a few days and that would help, but...
No one had said anything looked unusual during any of the tests they'd done earlier – the ultrasounds and x-rays and other tests that looked at his insides all came back completely normal. That was a huge relief. There were more tests scheduled for the next day and then the pH Probe on Monday, so he'd be there until at least then.
I sighed again.
Once Nate was out of the woods, then I'd think more about what Christopher had said and what on earth I was going to do about my life, my marriage, my sons.
*****
TBC
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