Wednesday, April 29, 2015

Complicating the Typical

Yesterday we spent most of the day in the doctor's office with Caiden. Something that's not out of the ordinary for us, but why we were was a unique occurrence. Aside from his diagnoses, he is usually the picture of perfect health, but Caiden had woken up in the morning not acting like himself. We tried going to therapy, but he just cried. He wouldn't eat or drink anything, and just wanted to lay on the floor.

He couldn't tell us what was wrong, and not wanting to jump to conclusions, we called the doctor to see if she wanted to check him out.

While we waited for a call back, I attempted to take his temperature. Easier said than done. He fights it and moves so much its hard to get an accurate reading. Over the next hour and a half, I took it three times, and each time it was significantly higher than the last.

I called again and got an appointment for later that afternoon.

When we got in to see her, there wasn't anything obviously wrong with him other than the fever. On a whim she did a test for strep throat.

It came back positive.

A typical childhood illness made more complicated by the fact that not only can he not tell us what's wrong or where it hurts, but he has an extreme aversion to oral medication. Giving it to him means holding him down and forcing him to swallow while screaming. There is the very real risk he could inhale it and asphyxiate or choke. The typical treatment of strep of course being a week long course of antibiotics.

We had two options. Get a prescription for the normal treatment and force it down his throat everyday for a week, or just one injection of a more powerful, long acting antibiotic.

Unfortunately, we had to go with the injection. A single, very painful injection of a thick antibiotic formula into his thigh.

His screams were heartbreaking, and they continued well after they'd administered the injection until he finally fell asleep.

Today, he is thankfully feeling better. His fever is down and he's taking tentative bites of food. However, his leg is hurting him. He's refusing to put any weight on it and shakes when he tries. He's hardly left the couch since he woke up this morning, when he does, he cries.

It was a simple decision to make, and what was best for him in the long run, but I still feel bad that he's now hurting because of it.

Even simple everyday things are complicated. For a typical child, they'd be able to tell you where it hurts. You'd be able to look in their mouth without needing three other people. You'd get the regular medicine and not even realize that there are alternatives that even the doctor has to look up, and then get from another office entirely because they don't carry it. You surely wouldn't know their names or doses.

We do.

We have to do everything a little different. Sometimes that means therapy instead of play dates. Sometimes that means sign language and babbling. This time, it meant a painful leg for a day, instead of a week of fighting to get him to take medicine.

Tomorrow will be better.

A week and he'll be back at therapy.

A month from now and it'll just be another bump on the road.

He won't remember any of it, and for once, that's just how it should be.

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