My neck. My back. My neck and my back!

Well not really back, just neck. But I couldn't resist using one of the few movies lines that I actually know.

Anyways, Jackson woke up at 4:30 AM on Monday morning in screaming pain. His neck was hurt and he could not move his head without major discomfort. Neither Ben or I could get him calmed down so we called the peds after hours line and the nurse basically told us to go to the ER because neck injuries were serious. While it was not injury-related, we had never seen Jackson so hysterical and in so much pain. He did not have a fever or rash, so the nurse's theory of meningitis was scary but not realistic. But when Jackson said he was okay with missing that day's pizza party at school and that yes, this was an emergency and he needed to go to the hospital, we decided to air on the side of caution and make the first of probably many trips to the ER.

We loaded him up in the carseat and braced his head with towels and he was somewhat comfortable {for all of you former lifeguards like myself, don't fret -- this was not a spinal injury that needed proper bracing}. Of course, the children's ER is clear across town as opposed to the hospital that is literally less than a mile from our house.

By the time we get to the ER, Jackson had calmed down and the motrin has started working. He quietly laid in the hospital bed in the ER and watched Full House while we waited on the doctor.




Upon consultation, they suspected that he had a crick in his neck, or had jarred it somehow the day before, and that, combined with a mild upper-respiratory infection and swollen lymph nodes, he had severe localized pain in his neck. We got a bottle of amoxycillian as a consolation prize - because one of his ears was "slightly inflamed" - and were sent home with orders to rest and take motrin every 6 hours. And the gummy Halloween sucker I had thrown in my bag as a Hail Mary didn't hurt either.




Jackson was passive until about lunch time, but by the time we picked Weston up at 2, he was bouncing off the walls, the medical drama from the wee hours clearly forgotten.
We are thankful that it was nothing more serious, but next time, unless it is a definitive emergency, we vow to wait an hour or so to see if things improve as opposed to listening to the on-call nurse's CYA approach.

Three days later, I had to literally hold Jackson down in order to cut off his hospital bracelet.




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