I, all by my lonesome, unsuccessfully fought Kyra's 103 degree temperature all of last night. I called the on call physician who told me that she is far from frying her brain (I tend to think differently, she was making me sweat just to touch her scorching hot little body) and to call in the morning to make an appointment.
And call I did, as Kyra had me up again at 6 this morning. Poor little Kyra has been poked, prodded and tortured today.
First they striped her naked, weighed her and took her temperature. She's lost more weight, coming in at 20lbs 6oz, still running a 103 fever.
Second they ran through the usual gauntlet of questions, whittling the diagnosis down to needing two necessary procedures. Kyra needed to give a urine sample via catheter as well as donate some blood.
The catheter took two tries. The first, they couldn't seem to find the right spot to produce the goods. On the second try they had just found the right spot and Kyra does it.... she urinates. All. Over. Them. It was hysterical! One of the nurses was smart and catch a good stream, enough for a sample. I was on the other end of her, whispering in her ear what a great job she did.
After that, we were sent to get get blood samples taken. Kyra could really have cared less about that. They pricked her finger. She calmly looked on, letting them do their thing and even danced to the music playing in the background while they milked her finger for more blood.
She was a champ. She did a lot better then I would have done.
They say the clues point to a UTI, but the tests wont come back for 2 days. We were sent home with antibiotics, and if she doesn't start improving by tomorrow evening we'll be back for more tests on Saturday.
I hope it all works, for the sake my much needed sleep, for the sake of Kyra's poor little body, and for the sake of Project Fat, which has been moving in the opposite direction than it's intended.