So you know how I mentioned Otto having a bad case of poison ivy? Several of you suggested various remedies (thank you!), and Otto dutifully went and bought the Mystical Scrub and prepared for relief. Except that it kept getting worse. And worse. So I made him go to Urgent Care today, and GUESS WHAT! In addition to confirming that his poison ivy has gone systemic, the doctor also suspects he has a patch of MRSA. Awesome. And how is YOUR weekend going?
So, um, today is my birthday. I think I'm having a midlife crisis, except that instead of running out to buy a sports car I cried all over Otto a couple of nights ago about how it's just SO STUPID to be upset over all of these little things which I am really quite upset over. The cry was good; I sort of got it out of my system, and in then the next day I scrubbed some bathtubs and did five loads of laundry and everything seemed better. So far today my Facebook friends gave me lots of lovely wall comments. My parents sent me funny cards. Kira mailed me gluten-free blondies that are out of...
So this morning I took Chickadee back to the allergist, our new second home. To review (if you don't feel like reading the whole rash saga): Our lovely dermatologist had suggested a number of tests when we last saw her, and "felt strongly that we're looking at something autoimmune," but then her skin biopsy came back negative for whatever they were checking for and she then said, "It's looking more like an allergy." Which left me wondering what exactly they DID with the circles they punched out of my daughter's arm. I know they looked at them under a microscope. Did the angry red bumps hold...
Yesterday Chickadee and I saw perhaps the kindest medical professional we've ever encountered, and I sort of wanted to put him in my pocket and take him home with us. He (yes, HE) was a nurse practitioner. I've always liked NPs. They seem to have most of the same training and power as you encounter with the average doctor, but a much better bedside manner. It's almost like they care, or something. Of course, the fact that he was awfully nice didn't actually GET us anywhere, but it was at least nice to feel cared about while we continue not solving the problem.... When we last left off,...
I'm wondering if there's ever a time when one of my children will have a problem I can't seem to fix that it DOESN'T cause me to buckle under the weight of crushing guilt at my inefficacy. Maybe when they're 18? 20? 40?? (Don't answer that. I suspect I won't like the answer.) So I thought we were doing everything right as regards Chickadee's mysterious skin affliction; we followed the steroid shot with all of the dermatologist's recommendations---stronger allergy meds, scent-free, chemical-free, additive-free shampoo, soap, and detergents, as well as an afternoon spent painting every metal...
Oh, hi! I'm sorry I didn't get around to posting yesterday. I totally would've, except for the fact that I spent the ENTIRE DAY: A) Driving to the doctor B) At the doctor C) Driving to another doctor D) Getting lost between doctor's offices E) Waiting at the pharmacy F) Swearing about getting lost between offices G) Having a coronary over the cost of all of these misadventures. So that was fun. In related news, I still kind of hate doctors. In further related news, my daughter and I are delicate flowers. Ouch! Stop breathing so close to me!! Hey, remember when I somehow borked up my neck,...
Last year my daughter was misdiagnosed with Molloscum Contagiosum. Then we went to a dermatologist who told us she was surely allergic to berries and citrus. Then we went to an allergist who said no, actually, she was she was allergic to peanuts. And then her rash cleared up when she stopped eating peanut butter. That was back in September. A few weeks ago she started being all rashy, again, and because I'd had some success going wheat-free for some skin issues, we decided to take her off wheat as well to see if it helped. It seemed to help, though it wasn't the solution. So we went to the...
I am too grumpy to live. Oh, wait. Still alive. God, that makes me grumpy. I can't even DIE properly. Yeah. It's that sort of a day. I used to be able to blame such things on my dear friend "Aunt Flo," you know, but once you hit menopause it's like all PMS, all the time, and people stop giving you the latitude to blame such moods on your hormones... even though your hormones are pretty much completely borked all the time. (Yes, that IS the technical term for it.) Evidence the first for my hormonal borkedness: A couple of weeks ago Otto haltingly complimented my dewy, glowy face---concerned,...
There are things in this world which I intellectually know to be true, but they remain---in my experience---sort of mythical, anyway, because I have no direct experience with them. Like... oh, I don't know. Take THE HEARTBREAK OF PSORIASIS. (Anyone remember those commercials?) I'm sure it's VERY heartbreaking. Anything that warrants the combination of a leading P and then an S is usually something Very Serious Indeed (see also: PSychiatry, PSilocybin, PSalms, PSeudo, and of course, PSHAW). On the other hand, I don't know anyone who has psoriasis, so I can only imagine the heartbreak it...