Well, despite Simon’s still having a fever, yesterday was finally looking up. After his afternoon nap, his first in three days, he was fever free and was his old cheery self. When Matt and I put him down to bed, we gave him some Tylenol just in case, watched a couple of episodes of Curb Your Enthusiasm, and tucked into bed thinking Simon was on the mend.
Then, per his pattern, he woke up shrieking at 12:40. I tried to wait him out a while, but by 1:00 it was clear that Simon was awake and miserable. Minus the enema, the rest of the night was a re-run from the night before. He arched and kicked and whimpered and moaned from 1:00 to 4:30, slept for a measly hour, and was back up by 5:30. He was also running a fever.
Today we went back to the pediatrician-our regular one thankfully-to have Simon evaluated. Turns out that the emergency pediatrician was right that Simon was working on an ear infection, but the antibiotic he prescribed was not working for Simon. That means Simon was not writhing from stomach pain two of the last three nights; he’s been writhing from ear pain.
His blood work showed a white cell count of 18, up from 13 Friday night and well over the normal ceiling of 12. He’s become anemic, too. He got a shot of a new antibiotic today in the office, to jump-start things, and we left with a prescription for a new antibiotic, a prescription for analgesic ear drops, advice about his Tylenol/Advil dosages, instructions to come back in if Simon is not vastly improved by Saturday, and information about what complications to be on the look out for.
The doctor was clearly worried about three possibilities: (1) roseola on top of the ear infection; (2) hives that would necessitate pulling Simon off his meds; (3) a blood infection if we don’t resolve this in short order.
Damn.
Simon clearly isn’t going to be at school for his birthday tomorrow, and he probably won’t make it Friday either. We ordered cupcakes for him, and it looks like they will either be stale before he gets to them or that Matt and I will be eating them all ourselves tomorrow. (That, actually, doesn’t sound so bad.) I just hope he’s better by Sunday when we have his big party at home.
And on a completely selfish level, I’m desperate for this to be over. I’ve been up three nights straight, logging a total of 11 hours of non-contiguous sleep over the past three days. I’m behind at work. I’m behind on getting estimates and repairs for last month’s storm damage. School is out two days next week for Simchat Torah. We’re supposed to be going on a short vacation next Friday. And I’m having around 30 people over Sunday for his party. I know it will all be OK, but right now I’m feeling trashed and overwhelmed. But most of all, I just feel awful for Simon, who’ve I’ve watched struggle and suffer for nearly a full week.
Everybody told me there’d be days like these, but hearing about it and living it are two entirely different matters.
Oh, poor you guys! All of you must be frazzled. Having been the kid with tonsils three sizes too big, like the Grinch’s heart but not nearly as cute, and ear infections every other month for seven years, I have great sympathy for Simon. And for you. Here’s hoping the new meds work and you all get some well-deserved rest. And happy birthday Simon!
ps–Jess, don’t sweat the birthday. If you have to, buy some take out and a premade cake (yes, I know, Horrors!) and everyone will deal. Take care of you, mama. Love, a