Fever Fun

Last weekend, little man felt warm.  A few hours later he felt hot.  A few hours after that?  Boiling!  For 2 days my husband and I watched in horror as our first born's temperature spiked up and down, reaching as high as 104.3 degrees.  For endless hours we debated whether or not to take him to the ER.  I called a number of urgent care places (trying to avoid the chaos and supergerms of the ER), but no one would see kids under 18 months.  Knowing the ER was the only option we tried to work him through it at home.

Our kind on-call doctor was on speed dial all weekend, and she patiently told me the same thing over and over again, "If you can make him comfortable and keep him drinking, he will be okay, but take him to the ER if you start to feel uncomfortable about the temperature."  She also told us about the femoral seizures that can occur when temperatures spike too quickly.  Thus creating shear panic in us as parents. 

Countless numbers of tepid baths, many with he and I in the tub together-as he was too tired to sit up by himself for the length of time it helped to bring the fever down, were given.  Oral doses of ibuprofen.  Anal suppositories of acetaminophen. Old-timey remedies of salted socks and essential oils in his humidifier water- nothing seemed to work.

I kept telling myself (though I wasn't truly believing) that the fever was good and his body was hard at work protecting itself.  I also decided that it was probably viral and that taking him to the doctor would be a waste because they wouldn't be able to do anything.  However, come day three of a fever over 102, my reasoning began to seem weak- it was time to take him to see the doc.  

My husband and I made a plan, wherein he would take our son to the doc at about 9:00, so I got up and started to get ready for work at 6:45.  I grabbed the baby from his bed and laid him down with my husband to cuddle, soothe, and monitor him.  At 8:15 when my husband's alarm went off, he awoke to find my side of the bed a disgusting, sweaty mess.  Guess who's fever finally broke?

Having already set up the appointment and wanting to get to the root of all this mess, my husband took him to see the pediatrician, who informed us that little booger had a double ear infection.  Hmm, so advice from someone who didn't get it completely right?

Well, here it goes:
If your baby is experiencing a fever:
1.  Let them drink anything they will accept.  I, to my horror, gave my son some Sprite- fresh from the McDonald's fountain.  I desperately wanted to keep him from dehydrating, so I did whatever I thought might work, and he did not get dehydrated.
2. If acetaminophen isn't working, try ibuprofen.  I was always told to use tylenol and that is what the doctor recommended, but after 2 days of it not working, she suggested to try ibuprofen.  And it worked.
3. Anal suppositories, while very gross and very weird, are magical.  The stupid fight of making a baby ingest medicine while they are thrashing around makes it so hard to tell how much they actually got.  These are a once and done deal.  You know exactly what they got and it gets into their system fast.
4. If your child is not desperately ill, call your insurance company.  I called early on in the fever trail and they were able to tell me how to anticipate the cost of ER vs. Urgent Care, etc.  It was helpful to know our options.
5. If you are having no success, think outside the box.  After finding out that Bubba had a double ear infection, we started an antibiotic.  After two doses, he began showing signs of an allergic reaction.  With no medicine to help him, I started looking for other ways to help him in this fight.  I took him to see a chiropractor this week who adjusted him.  I know it seems odd and it was a little hard to watch him lay on the table (he cried when he was laying there, but stopped immediately when I picked him up, he was scared, but not in pain) but it was been three days without meds and the adjustment seems to have taken some pressure off his ears and no signs of a returning infection have surfaced.
6. Enjoy the bizarro version of your child who will cuddle you and watch movies.  It is heartbreaking, but also the sweetest thing to see your baby take so much comfort in a mom and dad.  

Trying the salt in the socks method my Nee-Nee swears by.

Normal Life Stuff, not Mental Issues Stuff

So my kid is almost one.  A whole year old.  I can't believe how much I think about where I was this time last year.  When the weather is just so, or same tv shows start back up with their fall line up, I am reminded of the pregnant version of myself a year ago.  And for the first time since my son was born, I started to get a little sentimental about it all.  Like, "oh, I see why people do this again".  Truthfully, until now, the thought of a having another baby made my insides quake.

Now that little bubba is getting older, he has become so much fun.  Infinity times harder to manage (I didn't understand how that could be possible), but really fun.  We do things.  Really do things together.  And it is the best.  This last week he picked up the word mom.  I turn to mush every time I hear it, though it is mostly heard when he is yelling at me while I suction his nose.

Why am I suctioning his nose?  Because the sweet boys sinuses are draining out of his eyes.  He looks like he has two black eyes, it is the saddest thing.  I don't know if it is allergies, sinus infection, or teething, but it is gross.

In addition to booger-y gross.  He has been very, very poop gross.  After producing the most potent baby poo 4-5 times a day, through his diaper and clothes, we took him to see the doc.  A stool sample revealed that the little man has C. Diff.  A bacteria that he shouldn't have in his gut.  So he is taking a medication for that three times a day. 

Medicine three times a day?  Nah, how about four times a day!?  Remember that ringworm post from three months ago?  Yep, still fighting that battle.  These meds, which blend nicely into apple juice, are finally starting to take hold and this ringworm is on the way out.

Sometimes I feel like he is never not sick.  I can't recall a time when he did not have some sort of aliment: ear infection, fungal infection, etc.  He is, however, a healthy boy and praise the lord for that.  All his internal body systems work, his motor skills are on track and his ol' noggin is firing on all cylinders.  I am incredibly thankful for that.

He is crawling, eating actual food, obsessed with the Dog book that we read every night.  He has figured out how to manipulate all his toys to make them light up and make music.  He can call for his dad and wave goodbye.  He is my hearts delight. 

Therapy

So I tried the meds.  I felt crappy.  I stopped the meds.

Then the new prescritption came, but I decided to go rogue.  I felt the need to let my body and brain rest, so I did not start the medication-this one is called Lexapro.  I made some reference to the fact that I wasn't taking them to my husband, who got real serious faced and told me that he thought I needed to be taking them, that a doctor would not have prescribed them if the need wasn't there.  Okay I thought.  I will take them.  (But I still didn't)

That week, I started therapy.  Yep, the whole "talk about it while someone with a notepad takes notes" buisness.  Getting to this point was very hard though.  I called a million places trying to get this process started, but I found that: a) they don't have any therapists that accept Cigna insurance, b) it costs $150+ an hour, c) the last session was at 4 (I get out of work at 4:15), or d) no one called me back.

Losing hope and getting angry, I typed into the google search bar exactly what I was looking for and found Agape.  A national group of people who support people.  I called and they got me in for the next week.  I got a 5:00 appointment, too!  They don't accept my insurance, but the fees are $40 a session.  Yay for being in the lower income bracket!

*update*
It has been almost an month since I started typing this post.  And I can say that I am starting to feel different.  I am still unmedicated, but I am working on coming to terms with my anxiety.  I mean, it is has cost me nearly $200 to realize that I have an anxiety disorder and that I need to accept it.

 I had something I could liken to a small breakthrough in my last session, when my therapist told me that when I feel like my arms aren't attached or my head is floating away, or I am the only one in the world who feels this way and everyone is different and better and I am alone, that I needed to stop and say to myself, "This is the anxiety."  I know that seems glaringly obvious.  Like, really, I know how clear that should have been, but I needed to hear it and needed to practice it.  The art of depersonalizing the crazy things that your body does is not an innate skill.  However, I have seen a change in myself by following this technique.  When I start to panic, I remind myself, this is the anxiety.  It isn't me.  It is the anxiety.

I can't express how much relief this one small change has brought me.  My life is different now than it was a week ago.  I am so grateful.

Sertaline

In my last post I admitted that I am struggling with my mental state.  I wish that "admitted" wasn't the word to use, but it is what describes the feeling of telling others that you have brain issues-like a secret you have to admit with caution.   I do admit it, however, in hopes of opening up the dialogue about mental health.  It should not be something so secretive that people feel nervous writing it down in a quasi anonymous blog. (getting off soap box)

All that said, I wrote that I would be addressing this problem.  Not sure how to begin,  I called my OB doctor- since this is most likely baby related.  His nurse called back and said go to my regular doctor and could offer me no help or advice.

Step One: Call doc
I called up my general care physician who said he could get me in a few days later.  You should know, I am not a big fan of this doctor. He is someone I found on a list of who accepts my insurance within 3 miles of my house and I just put up with his lack of personality and sub-par wait times out of convenience.  After making the appointment, I began to feel extra anxious from that point on.

Step Two: Go to Appointment
I went into the appointment with a pretty good idea of what was going on, thanks to my internet self-diagnosis.  I told him all the things I had been feeling and he agreed that I had anxiety. He took some notes, pointed out that I had ringworm on arm (thanks, kiddo), and wrote me a script.  I drove to Walgreens and picked up my generic Zoloft medicine.  five dollars.

Step Three: Drugs
I got home and took the first dose before going to bed as it makes a lot of people tired.  I woke up in the morning feeling the same, no immediate side effects, so that was good.  I guess.  I kept taking the meds in the evening and monitored my feelings.  On day three, we went to the home depot to get some house fixer-upper supplies.  As we walked through the store, my husband excitedly looking at light fixtures, I thought, "what is it all for?"  And that was the beginning.  During that first week on the Sertaline, I felt those creepy, over-sad-Eeyore, we are all a pile of nothing- thoughts.  It seemed like my anxiety was ok, my body was ok, but my brain was a deep, dark, hole.  Oh, and, uh, martial relations...nope.  Not on these pills.

Step Four: Make executive decision 
 I felt too disconnected to the world to keep on with the medicine any longer.  I called the doc, told him how I felt, and he immediately called in something else.  Not encouraging.