I'm tempted to use the phrase "filled with worry" in this post, but I won't. For one thing, it's probably overly dramatic, considering. For another thing, it's not accurate. I'm going out about my daily life like usual, with worry more of a persistent buzz in the background, darting in now and then like an angry horsefly.
So, we think Addie is probably allergic to a second class of antibiotics now. After this most recent round of ear infections, at the very end of her dose, she started to get red welts on her legs, welts that looked an awful lot like the welts she got when she developed her allergy to cephalosphorins. I haven't researched yet what our other options are, but my understanding is that this doesn't leave us with much to fight infection with. If she's allergic to penicillins and cephalosporins, and continues to be sick as much as she has been, I'm not sure what our options are. Which is scary. And I can't even let myself think about what happens if she gets something more serious than an ear infection. Even the ear infections, chronic as they are, are scary and exhausting.
But there's lots of what-ifs with all of that, which is why I'm sort of able to skirt the worry at the moment while I wrap up the semester and deal with all the other little inanities that crowd my life at the moment. While the big things--my kids, their health, go unaddressed.
Like the knock-kneed thing. At Addie's portfolio conference last night, I learned that she is an incredibly happy, motivated, and sweet kid, with a notable ability to concentrate and a penchant for order. The teachers did say they had noticed some significant problems with her balance, that she is prone to spill, has trouble carrying large objects, with spatial relationships. This is probably because of the problems with her ears. Her other school, last year, told us the same thing. When I told her teachers that we're also looking into her being knock-kneed, they all nodded, saying that explained a lot. "She runs sideways on the playground," said one teacher. "She has trouble staying in line," said another.
Right. The nurse says she'll probably grow out of being knock-kneed, most kids do, but then noted with surprise (after I made Addie run up and down the hall) that Addie was pretty severely knock-kneed, and we should keep an eye on it. God knows what that means. I also have not terrified myself further by googling "knock-kneed," but in place of the internet search is a rich background tapestry of fear that perhaps Addie's legs aren't growing right, and that's why she wants to be carried everywhere and can't run as fast as the other kids.
Or maybe she's just fine. Is just different.
Or maybe she's not getting enough calcium (Eric's persistent worry) and her bones aren't growing right.
In which case.
Worry, worry, worry. Buzz, buzz, buzz.
So, we think Addie is probably allergic to a second class of antibiotics now. After this most recent round of ear infections, at the very end of her dose, she started to get red welts on her legs, welts that looked an awful lot like the welts she got when she developed her allergy to cephalosphorins. I haven't researched yet what our other options are, but my understanding is that this doesn't leave us with much to fight infection with. If she's allergic to penicillins and cephalosporins, and continues to be sick as much as she has been, I'm not sure what our options are. Which is scary. And I can't even let myself think about what happens if she gets something more serious than an ear infection. Even the ear infections, chronic as they are, are scary and exhausting.
But there's lots of what-ifs with all of that, which is why I'm sort of able to skirt the worry at the moment while I wrap up the semester and deal with all the other little inanities that crowd my life at the moment. While the big things--my kids, their health, go unaddressed.
Like the knock-kneed thing. At Addie's portfolio conference last night, I learned that she is an incredibly happy, motivated, and sweet kid, with a notable ability to concentrate and a penchant for order. The teachers did say they had noticed some significant problems with her balance, that she is prone to spill, has trouble carrying large objects, with spatial relationships. This is probably because of the problems with her ears. Her other school, last year, told us the same thing. When I told her teachers that we're also looking into her being knock-kneed, they all nodded, saying that explained a lot. "She runs sideways on the playground," said one teacher. "She has trouble staying in line," said another.
Right. The nurse says she'll probably grow out of being knock-kneed, most kids do, but then noted with surprise (after I made Addie run up and down the hall) that Addie was pretty severely knock-kneed, and we should keep an eye on it. God knows what that means. I also have not terrified myself further by googling "knock-kneed," but in place of the internet search is a rich background tapestry of fear that perhaps Addie's legs aren't growing right, and that's why she wants to be carried everywhere and can't run as fast as the other kids.
Or maybe she's just fine. Is just different.
Or maybe she's not getting enough calcium (Eric's persistent worry) and her bones aren't growing right.
In which case.
Worry, worry, worry. Buzz, buzz, buzz.
I was a very sickly child. I would get staff infections just from being in a swimming pool. I am allergic to both penicillin and sulfa drugs. Point? There are plenty of other antibiotics they can find to treat children. Is that a comfort at all? I hope a little. ~Cassandra
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