Sunday, November 11, 2007


Remind me to tell you about why our pediatrician can no longer hand out suckers to his patients. Must drag out my soapbox for that one. More later.

strep and hugs

It's been strep throat week at our house. It began last Sunday night when we returned from visiting family in Eastern Kentucky. Abel and I came home with a sore throat, so Mark sent us to an evening clinic. Abel tested positive for strep but the doctor didn't test me. She said she thought I had a sinus infection, but even if I was positive for strep, it wouldn't change the treatment. Anti-biotics for both of us. It bugged me that my complaint was for sore throat, not sinuses, but I was so tired I probably wouldn't have argued if she had said my arm was broken. I just wanted to feel better.

By Tuesday morning, my tonsils were literally the size of grapes (the green ones!), and had big white patches on them. (Sorry to be gross and graphic.) I was in serious pain each time I swallowed. Do you know how often we swallow in a day? It's a lot, let me assure you. I called the clinic and told them my symptoms. The receptionist called back to tell me the Dr. had called in a prescription for a decongestant.

A decongestant??? Clearly I was not communicating well with this individual. I don't even have a medical degree and lots of experience treating sick people, and I know full well that a decongestant is meant to decongest. I must not have been clear. Congestion was not my problem. The thorny vineyard growing in my throat was the problem. My husband (oh, how I appreciate his wisdom) insisted I go to a different clinic and let someone else with a medical degree look at my throat. I did, and I was right. Congestion and sinuses were not even mentioned! I had the symptoms of strep or tonsillitis. Gee, that makes much more sense. A prescription for stronger anti-biotics, and I was on my way. (How did people live before Z-packs?) Oh, before I left, I asked about my babies. Not to worry, babies don't usually get strep.

Famous last words.

On Wednesday, Robert woke up complaining of sore throat. We decided to check it out, and sure enough he tested positive. Day four, three family members on anti-biotics. In the meantime, several of the family members we were with over the weekend were having the same results. Robert made the ninth person in our extended family to be sick since the weekend. That afternoon, Hope woke up with a high temp. Off we went for the second doctor visit of the day. Yep, she tested positive, too.

"But I didn't think babies got strep," I pleaded to the doctor (as if my pleading would change what they were seeing under the microscope).

"They don't," she politely replied. That's my girl. Already showing the she's exceptional.

Today is Sunday. I thought we were free and clear. No doctor visits since Wednesday. No sore throats or fevers. Regular disobedience resumed. Life was getting back to normal. Then Elizabeth woke up from her nap with a temp of almost 103. Back to the clinic. Oh, and it's the same one where my tonsillitis was diagnosed as a sinus infection. Great. But it's the only thing open on Sunday night besides the ER, and who wants to go there?

She tested negative, but they gave her anti-biotics anyway. Could be a false negative, but with all we've had in our house this week, Dr. thought that was best.

My sweet Elizabeth was such a trooper while we were in the office, though. She let the nurse stick that yucky swab in her mouth not once, but twice. (She got a lollipop from Mom for that one.) She had to hold the thermometer under her tongue. I guess this highly advanced medical facility had never seen or could not afford the thermometers that you just stick in a child's ear. I could go on, but suffice it to say, she was a trooper. While we waited for the test results, which I believe the workers needed to drive across town to acquire, she played quietly.

One of her games was hugging mommy. Sometimes she ran out of mommy hugs. She had to go across the room to get some more. She would pick up another shipment, put them in her pocket, then come back and give them to me. Sometimes she got four hugs, sometimes ten, and a few times, the shipment contained eighteeny-one. I'm not sure how many that is, but I got lots of hugs when that shipment came.

Such a sweetheart. I don't think I knew that you could love so much your heart hurt until I became a mother.

It's the beginning of a new week. Toothbrushes are all changed. Hand-towels have been replaced by papertowels, and everything has been cleaned and Lysoled (is that a word?). Here's to a healthy week and the destruction of all things, well, destructive at our house!


Monday, November 5, 2007

Sons and Daughters

My 14 month old had quite an impressive diaper production today. In response, my dear sons dubbed her Lady Poops Alot.

I don't know what else to say to that one.