If you need to take your child to the Emergency Room

I can look in admiration at all the doctors and nurses in the Emergency Room, who are busy with their evening shift. They do so much for others.

A beautiful profession. But I prefer not to see them, those clever doctors. Bodi had a fever for five days and for a boy of almost nine years old, I thought that was way too long. When I measured 39.3 degrees again at the end of the afternoon, I called the out-of-hours GP service. She didn't trust it either when I explained the whole story. He eats less, pees a little, and has a very whiny, nasty cough. We had to be at the Emergency Room at the VU within an hour, she said on the phone.

Then suddenly you go into action mode as a mother. Hop, call my sister, to see if she can quickly watch Daaf. She lives closest, so that was nice. Then call the in-laws, to see if they can relieve my sister if it takes a long time, because she still has to attend a meeting. Then dress Bodi, warm coat, hat, socks on and go. Looking for the parking garage. Fast, quick: suddenly I felt a kind of urgency. I wanted someone to check on my son right now. But hospitals, no matter how much respect I have for all those people who work there, are sometimes quite full. We were placed in a children's waiting room, with cheerful drawings on the wall and little cars to race with. It took a while. And took a while. We sat for an hour with a feverish baby. And another hour. Then I thought: what am I doing here? This is supposed to be the Emergency Room?

With some fanfare, I stood at the counter telling my story to all the nurses again. I thought of a throat infection because he coughs so much, but I want someone to check if it’s not his lungs. You get caught in such a machine once you are inside a hospital. Bodi had to wear a urine bag so they could check his urine. But he hardly pees because he doesn't want to drink. We had to wait again. And believe me: sitting in a waiting room with a sick child is soon quite a task. I stood at that counter again. They finally understood me. I was referred to a hospital's out-of-hours GP service where there was space right away. That was good too, because I was about to scream and then they would have had to lay me down in a bed from exhaustion.

Bodi indeed turns out to have an ear and throat infection, the poor darling. So young, so sickly. With antibiotics, he should recover quickly.

This year I have seen many more hospitals than I would like. Not only during my twin pregnancy for ultrasounds and check-ups, but also during that nasty aftermath after the cesarean. Now that I was back there this week for Bodi, it all came back up a bit. That whole routine of assistants, nurses, doctors, pediatricians, real surgeons who never have time, a lot of waiting... But I am not pathetic because of what I have experienced as a mother. I have only started to enjoy it more. The fact that I am not in a hospital every day and neither are my children. Because there is nothing as sad as a sick child. And I don't mean an ear or throat infection.

I am just glad that that is all it is.

Image: Instagram Tessa Heinhuis