Headache Update

Two weeks of headache.  It kinda sucks.  And by kinda, I mean really.

So, yesterday, I went to the doctor.  Again.  Only this time?  I went to one who had a clue.

The verdict?  Something has caused my whiplash injury to become a problem again.  You know, the whiplash from my wreck three freaking years ago.  Grrr.

I was given a shot of Toridol (a heavy duty anti-inflammatory), and prescribed a heavy-duty muscle relaxer to take.  Oh, and I get to go back to physical therapy.

I am so ready to be done with headaches.  Blah.

Vindication! Or Validation! Or Some Other V-something-ation-word!

Yesterday morning, we were planning to have our annual family pictures done.  The outfits were chosen, the appointment was made, the baths had been taken . . .

And Miles woke up with a rash.  All over his face.

Needless to say, I cancelled the portrait appointment, and made a doctor's appointment.  Only our regular doctor - we'll call him Dr. B - wasn't available, so we were scheduled with another doctor - Dr. G - from the practice.  Considering our relationship with Dr. B, I didn't mind the change at all.  I went in prepared to give her the entire run-down of Miles' medical history.

Except she already knew it.  Unlike Dr. B, she had obviously read his medical history.  She walked in, said hello, then turned around.  She looked at Miles, smiled as she tickled him, and told me, "He has eczema."  She followed up with a thorough examination, but stuck to her initial diagnosis.  The vindication, however, came in the post-examination discussion.

"Has he shown any signs of sensitivities to foods?"

So, I explained about our suspicions about milk.  How we'd spent months telling Dr. B that milk caused him to have ridiculous diarrhea.  How Dr. B had told us that kids this age didn't have allergies or lactose intolerances.

At this point, she interrupted me.  "Umm . . ." she said, then paused for a long time, trying to figure out a politic way to say what she needed to say, "that's not exactly correct."  She went on to tell me that milk allergies are one of the most common causes of eczema.

We talked about my experiment - the two weeks of dairy-free - and she told me that was precisely what she would have recommended I do.  But, my conclusions were a little off.  I had assumed lactose intolerance, and had therefore switched from regular milk to lactose-free milk - which is still milk.  By trying to make certain that he was getting the proper nutrition, I had inadvertently exposed him to large amounts of something that he was allergic to.  The end result was an outbreak of eczema.

So, I was a little off.  But, if Dr. B had taken me seriously, we would have known it sooner.  Dr. G set things straight, prescribed a heavy-duty lotion, and some antibiotics to deal with the infection that had resulted from him scratching at the eczema.  With that little bit of business out of the way, I asked her out.

Okay, not really, but I did ask her to be Miles' new doctor.  She accepted, after listing her credentials, to make certain that I was making an informed decision.

Her specialty is pediatrics.  Dr. B was a general practitioner.

Kismet.

Lessons of Mommyhood

Lesson #106: Never take a sick toddler anywhere.  Especially somewhere that requires waiting.  Even if it's just for a minute.

Today was Dominic's first vet visit since coming to live with us.  We wanted to get him checked out, and establish a relationship with a vet, just in case we need one in the future. (We had one for Lilo, but we weren't crazy about him, and his office was 20 minutes away.)

I got there a few minutes early, anticipating the inevitable barrage of paperwork that comes with going anywhere new.*  We arrived, and were immediately taken to an exam room and handed a clipboard and a pen.  I rolled up my sleeves and dove into the paperwork frenzy.

It was a single page.  Front only.  Lots of white space.

Which meant that I now had several minutes to wait in the tiny exam room with a Very Worried Dog and a Very Cranky Toddler.  Not a good mix.  Dominic laid under my feet, whining, probably expecting to be left here or worse.  Miles, meanwhile, ran laps around the room.  In the space of two minutes, he asked for Goldfish and a book, pushed the doctor stool around the room a half-dozen times, threw his Goldfish angrily at the floor and tried to take the dog's leash from me.  And then I wiped his nose.

All hell broke loose.  He threw his head back, arched his spine, and wailed.  He punched and kicked and tossed and turned like a fish flopping around on a dock.  Snot and saliva flew.  Eardrums were pierced.  Bruises were inflicted upon an unsuspecting and helpless Mommy.

Who was still trying to hold on to the dog and keep him calm.

Blargh.

In the end, the vet came in, Miles calmed down, the dog was given a clean bill of health, and we went home.  Where Miles promptly fell into a deep sleep, exhausted from his first-class tantrum.  And I fell into a heap in my chair to blog and watch the neighbors call the cops on each other repeatedly.  For an hour.

Ahh, it's so relaxing to be a stay at home mom!

* Seriously, there's a reason I don't go to new restaurants anymore.  By the time I finish the paperwork, I'm famished! :)

Lactose-Free

I'm sure you all remember my rant regarding the last doctor visit, no? If not, please refresh your memory here, because there's nothing like crazy to start your day. :)

After much agonizing and raving like a lunatic to anyone who would listen, I finally pulled myself together, thought it through, and decided on a plan of action. Starting this past Monday, we have put Miles on a strictly lactose-free diet. I am recording every item of food that goes into his mouth, along with his sleep patterns, behavior, and of course . . . diaper contents.

I won't go into the disgusting details, but suffice it to say that my biggest concern is that I can count on one hand the number of . . . solid stinky diapers Miles has had in his entire life. For thirteen months, now, every dirty diaper has been . . . loose, to put it mildly. I could explain it better,* but I think you get the idea.

So, I'm keeping a record. And I'm finding that it keeps me very cognizant of what I am allowing him to consume.

For instance, I realized on Monday evening that every single meal and snack included a generous helping of fruit. Not an altogether terrible thing, granted, but it showed me that he got far more fruit than he did vegetables, proteins, or even grains - his favorite food group, by far. Which meant that I was more careful about balancing his meals today. Now, that's not to say that I went crazy and changed his diet entirely - that would bias the data I am taking regarding his reactions to dairy. But I did think through every decision I made about his food intake yesterday, something I haven't done in months.**

And regardless of what this little study finds, it is, at the very least, encouraging me to think a bit more about what I feed my kid. So, even if I find that my instincts are wrong, and he really doesn't have an issue with dairy, I will still have learned something that will help me to better care for my son. Because, at the end of the day, that's the best I can do.

For the record, though, 48 hours into the study, and things have already solidified, if you get my meaning. I can't say this is necessarily a permanent result, but . . .

Perhaps my motherly instincts weren't so far off after all . . . :)

*In fact, I've found I have quite the knack for describing the contents of Miles' diapers, much to Patrick's chagrin . . .

**I know, I know, I'm a Bad Mommy. Why are you surprised?

Random Thoughts on the Week

It's been a whirlwind sort of week.

Miles and I spent Wednesday and Thursday at the office, trying to get things ready for an audition workshop this weekend. Wednesday evening, we had dance rehearsal. Last night was Shakespeare. And through it all, Miles whined.

The doctor said on Monday that he thought Miles just had a cold. Nothing terrible. He did say that his right ear looked a little pink, but he thought that it was probably just from being rubbed or laid on. He didn't think it was an infection.

After 4 days of whining and crying from a child who usually smiles through anything (including teething), I think it's an ear infection.

So, we go back to the doctor this afternoon. I'm sure he thinks I'm one of those paranoid moms who takes her kid to the doctor every time he sneezes. I'm not. At least, I don't think I am. I just know there's something wrong. Miles never cries this much.

I will update after the appointment.

Cold Update

The bad news: Miles is having a hard time sleeping and eating because of his stuffy nose, and his cough has become more . . . juicy.

The good news: The doctor has confirmed that it is Just a Cold, so we just have to ride it out, and everything should be fine.

Snot Monster

Miles has his first cold. :(

His nose has been congested (and runny) off and on for almost two weeks, but it wasn't bad, and he didn't have any other symptoms, so we didn't really worry too much about it.* Then, yesterday, he started coughing as well, and his nose is so stuffy that he's having a hard time eating and sleeping. The poor kid couldn't sleep for more than two hours at a stretch last night because he kept waking up to cough or sneeze. I finally brought him into bed with me, and propped his head up on my arm. Thus elevated, he slept for almost 4.5 hours before waking to eat, and the rest of the night went ok.

He's been up and happy and playful all day,** so far, so I'm not too worried. I called the doctor to see if I should bring him in, and was told that it's probably nothing to worry about. But, we scheduled an appointment for tomorrow morning, just to make sure.

I know it's not that bad, and it could be a lot worse, but it breaks my heart to see him suffer, even a little. Hopefully, the doctor will tell us that nothing is wrong, and that he will be better in a couple of days.

Until then, I will cuddle him and try to find the nose-sucker. (Ewww.)

I'm sure this whole thing was caused by his lack of socks. ;)

*I know, hand me the mother of the year award.

**Though, he's been very, very clingy. I had to put him in the sling just to finish my housework.

4 Month Check-Up

So, Miles had his big 4 month check-up at the doctor's office today. Our doctor and his nurse are both totally smitten with our smiling, laughing, active, attentive little man. Everything is normal, and he's progressing right on track.

As of today, my little boy is 14 lbs. 3oz. and 26 inches long! That means that in 4 months, he has gained 6lbs and 6.5 inches. I cannot believe how fast he is growing!

So, after we chatted with the Doc about rashes (just dry skin, no worries), solids (yay! he likes them!), and milestones (he's rolling both ways, and trying to sit unassisted), the Doc finished up his exam, and it was time for the dreaded shots. [Insert appropriately tense music here]*

Poor Miles. He never saw it coming. One minute, he's smiling and cooing at the nurse, who is totally melting over those oh-so-long eyelashes, and the next, he's screaming in agony and disbelief because that beautiful nurse has just stabbed him in the thigh - three times!

As soon as it was over, I picked him up and cuddled him, and shoved a bottle in his mouth. After a few seconds, the comforting yumminess of the the bottle outweighed the temporary discomfort of the shots. His cries ceased as he nommed away, and by the time we left, he was flirting with the receptionist.

That's my boy! :)

*It is one of life's greatest tragedies that my real life doesn't have a soundtrack like in the movies. I mean, think of how much easier it would be to make the right decisions. You start to open the door, thinking it's your friend. Cue scary music. You run and hide under your bed and call 911 instead. Horrible slasher-movie death scene avoided.**

**Unless it was really just that creepy guy who works for UPS. . . I think he would cue the scary music, too. . .

To Call or Not to Call (the Doctor)?

Warning: The following is kinda gross, and not for those with weak tummies. If you feel nauseous, too damn bad. I warned you.

One of the things they should teach you in those newborn classes is that it's hard to tell if a baby is actually sick, sometimes.

Last Thursday, Miles puked twice. I won't go into gory details, but both times involved total outfit changes for both Miles and Mommy. So, early Friday morning, I called and got an appointment with the doctor.

The diagnosis: Clean bill of health. No temperature. No signs of infection. No sickies, whatsoever. Apparently, Miles just thinks it's funny to projectile vomit all over the place.

So, we went on with our weekend. Fed him rice cereal. Gave him a bath. Got him ready for church Sunday morning - which is when he decided that two whole days without puking was just too long. Two minutes before we were supposed to leave, he covered himself, his carseat, and his cute little polo shirt that matched Daddy's.

About 5 minutes before the grossness. . .

I stripped down the baby, cleaned him up, and dressed him in another cute little polo shirt, while Patrick cleaned out the carseat and dealt with the bulk of the yucky. We ran out the door, with only minutes until Mass was supposed to start. Thank goodness for the kind old lady at church who gave up the seats she had been saving for her son and daughter-in-law so we could actually sit.

Ok, no big deal. One little bit of puke. Maybe he just gagged himself on his spit.*

A second round of rice cereal ensued, along with lots of happy playtime. No temperature + happy baby = just a fluke(?)

Wrong again. He threw up twice more throughout the day. I had to change my clothes both times. :(

After The Boy had finally gone to bed for the night, Patrick and I sat on the couch, trying to figure out what was wrong. He still has no temperature, no cough, no congestion, not even a runny nose. When he's not puking, he is a happy, playful little man, inquisitive, as always. He doesn't seem sick. He's just puking everywhere.

Maybe, I suggested, it's from the teething.** Maybe it's the rice cereal, disagreeing with a tummy that isn't as ready to grow up as he is.

Or, maybe he's sick. Without any symptoms.

So far, no puking this morning. If he pukes again (or starts running a temperature, or showing any other sign of illness), I'm calling the doctor. If not, I'm going to assume it's one of the other possibilities, and try not to freak out.

Can someone just invent a gauge or something that can tell me when my baby is sick, and when he's just . . . whatever?

*He does this far more often that I would like to admit. I just have to keep reminding myself that you can be a genius and still forget to swallow from time to time . . . right?

**He has 2 teeth (top center) that feel as though they're going to push through any day now. So much for the doctor's reassurances that "Most babies don't start teething until much later." Doesn't he know that Miles is determined to take over the world before his first birthday? Can't do that without teeth.