Our stay at the hospital:

Our stay was (thankfreakinggoodness) short lived.  We were there for just a bit over 24 hours. And now we are home.
Grey was unbelievably cheerful and friendly. Here's the story of how he was starved to death:
We were asked on Wednesday afternoon to start Grey fasting so that he could have an MRI (he needed to be sedated, and can't have eaten in 6 hours.) So Grey stopped eating around 3pm.  The doctors and specialists argued back and forth and finally decided (around 11:30pm) that Grey wouldn't need an MRI that night.  So we made our starving baby a bottle.
BUT, they told us that Grey would have a bone scan early in the morning the next day, so he couldn't eat anything past 2am.
So he ate a bottle at 11:30pm and 2am.
But when we finally talked to the radiology dept the next day, we were informed that their lab didn't even open until 1 that afternoon.
ONE PM. So Grey had to keep fasting. ALL DAY. I may have had a bit of a freak out. He's not an adult. He's a baby. He's not even a year old. He does not deserve this.

I might have felt a little better if every single person who came in hadn't said "So is this little Christopher? Or do you go by Chris?" Neither. His middle name is Christopher. Look at your chart.
Oh, and one doctor said, "So, this is little Gary Pritchett?"
Nope. Good try.

Watching the Muppets to stay distracted

Grey had two x-rays, an ultrasound, and bone scan during our stay.

"Oh, but that's not so bad," you say. Wrong. Now I will tell you about how Grey was not allowed to sleep:
First of all, we didn't get up in to a room until well after midnight, and before then we were in an examination room where person after person came in to stretch, pull, "put pressure on" and try to make Grey walk on his hurt leg.
You know, so each and every doctor and nurse could have their own personal understanding of his hurt. This might have been fine, except that it wasn't just a nurse, a doctor, and an orthopedic specialist. It was also each of their med students. Which meant that there were literally a dozen doctors, residents, students and whatevers pushing, pulling, and hurting my baby.
So after midnight we were led to a room and Grey was hooked up to a bunch of monitors, even though I tried to explain that he was here for a leg injury. His lungs were fine. He was getting air. He did not need his breathing to be monitored. And (for the 20th time) the nurse "took his vitals."
They took his blood pressure, listened to him breathing, looked in his ears and took his temperature. Finally, finally, they said we could go to sleep.
They left the room and I laid Grey in his giant crib bed with a bottle, and snuck around turning off monitors and things that were blinking because SERIOUSLY. It was 7 hours past that boy's bedtime.
And after 20 minutes of crying, snuggling, stroking, and singing... hallelujah! Grey was asleep.

Snuggling his blanket. 

And then they came in an hour later and woke him up. To "take his vitals." Again.
This time, when I tried to put him back to sleep, he wasn't allowed a bottle, and every time he moved his leads fell off and started beeping loudly. After twenty minutes, I got him to sleep and when I opened the door to sneak out and get water, it creaked loudly and he woke screaming.
Another 20 minutes and he was asleep.
And then  he was woken by the damn beeping again.
An hour of Travis bouncing finally, finally resulted in Grey sleeping.
And then, of course, the nurse came in to "take his vitals."
I wanted to kill her.
An hour later the doctor came in to check up on Grey, and he was followed by his resident and med student. Oh, and the new morning nurse, who wanted to check up on things.
That boy didn't sleep.
And remember how he hadn't eaten?
He was so pathetic and yet. He was smiling. He was cheerful. He laughed when we played peek-a-boo and didn't whine when we ate in front of him.
Good boy.  The best boy.

Grey got an IV, which was a tearful process, on his part and mine. But once it was in, he found it to be a fascinating new toy.

And then I left, because I had to come back for our other son Micah. Remember him? and I sobbed the whole hour drive from Salt Lake and I listened to {this song} on repeat, and tried to sing along while sobbing like a drunk prom queen whose boyfriend dumped her (you know, like in movies?)
And thank goodness I wasn't at the hospital for Grey's sedation and bone scan, because just looking at the pictures Travis took makes me feel sick and start crying.




But finally the doctors decided that Grey probably just had swollen joints from an ear infection, and maybe if that was allowed to heal, his leg would get better.  (There's still a chance, though, that something else is wrong.) And after arguing that they wanted to "monitor him" overnight, Travis informed them that being there was making him sicker. 
So my baby was allowed to come home.



This morning, he's pretty pathetic, because he still is hurting and sick. But he is home.
He is napping.
And thank God for sleep, because he hasn't gotten much lately. And thank you. Thank you guys so, so much.  I felt so buoyed up, thinking of all the prayers and love vibes being sent my way. This baby deserved lots of prayers and blessings, and that's just what he got.
So thank you.
Becky

Bahahaha! This picture makes me laugh, and so freaking happy. Look at those goofy teeth! I love.
Such a happy, sweet, wonderful patient.  The best patient in the hospital. Certainly happier than me.