As a parent, I expect to face challenges and the little stresses daily life brings as I rear my three boys. But the past month has been hard. I mean hard, hard. It started normally enough about four weeks ago. Ben got strep. That, unfortunately, is not a rare occasion in this household. A couple days off of school, and Ben was much better. No big deal. A few days later, Paul fell ill. I knew bringing him in to have a throat culture would be no picnic. Paul absolutely hates having his throat swabbed. "Don't worry, I'll be quick," the technician said. Paul was having none of it. Tears, kicking and screaming, a steadfast refusal to open his mouth. I laid him down on the examining table and tried to pry his mouth open. As the tech tried to work the tongue depressor in, Paul bit down on it, hard. "Come on, I don't want me to have to plug your nose," the getting-a-little-frustrated tech said. (Yeah, that sounds like a great idea. Traumatize him for life!) Finally, the tech managed get the swab past his protestations. The test came back faintly positive. That sounded about right, I thought. Probably not the best sample ever taken ...
Still, doctor's office shenanigans aside, not a terrible experience overall. Until Gus got sick. He had been nursing cold symptoms for almost three weeks - lots of snot, but nothing serious. Then in the wee hours of a Sunday morning, Mark noticed he was a little feverish. I thought ear infection, and off Mark and Gus went to the weekend clinic. No ear infection, the doctor said, but Gus definitely had something. She just wasn't sure what. The possibilities, she thought, were strep, a bladder infection/UTI or pneumonia without a cough. She said she could run a blood test but recommended that we take a wait-and-see approach. Because Paul had had a UTI when he was a baby and Gus wasn't doing well, I wanted to do the blood test. Off we went to the hospital. The doctor said the blood work indicated that his infection was bacterial rather than viral and recommended we take Gus to the ER. We made our second sojourn to the hospital for what was sure to be an unpleasant experience. To make a long story short, the doctor, an arrogant fellow, was certain that Gus's problems were respiratory. I knew he probably was right, but it would have been nice if he had at least listened to our concerns. We took Gus for a chest x-ray. I'm sure the experience was terrifying for him. The x-ray showed "an arguable small spot of pneumonia." The doctor sent us off with a prescription for amoxicillin and me with an uncertain feeling. When you hear that your infant's blood work is not normal, you want to be sure that you have found the source of the problem. I was not at all confident.
The next day, things had gotten worse. Gus was spiking 104 and 105 fevers and was completely miserable. We brought him back to the doctor. His oxygen levels were lower than she was comfortable with, so she sent us to Children's Hospital. There, he received IV antibiotics, another chest x-ray and a new prescription. The pediatrician at Children's informed us that my friend the ER doctor's recommended dose was too low by half if Gus did indeed have pneumonia. If anything, the next few days were worse. On top of Gus's illness, he had thrush and a yeast infection, ahem, down below. I'm sure he was feeling assaulted from every angle. He'd had it with medicine (antibiotics, fever reducers, disgusting goo for the thrush) and rectal temperature takings. He was spitting his amoxicillin back in our faces and screaming at every diaper change. Of course, antibiotics cause diarrhea and make you more prone to yeast infections, so he was pooping like a newborn, and his yeast problem was only getting worse. This resulted in the worst diaper rash I've ever seen. And I've seen some bad ones. My house was a war zone decorated with detritus of illness. All around were clothes soiled with baby poo and amoxicillin from medication-delivery battles.
Finally, things began to improve. We were coming to the end of Gus's antibiotic regimen, and he was taking his meds much better. I had finally breathed a sigh of relief. Then the day before Easter, Ben felt sick. He was running a fever. Shortly thereafter, Paul spiked his own fever. I had so been looking forward to a fun Easter, but it looked increasingly like Ben and Paul would be sick. Indeed, that was the case. Monday, we brought them to the doctor. Ben: a double ear infection. Paul: strep. Again.
Today is Paul's last day of antibiotics. Pray with me that my refrigerator will be free of the dreaded pink stuff for a long, long time. And maybe I'll be able to get back to doing my beloved blogging more than once a month!
