Oh June… what a crazy month you have been. Sure, you’ve offered some good things. The Mavs are NBA Champions. Summer began, and I have enjoyed rare treats like reading for fun and napping. I have had a nice shift from having 100+ things to do to a more seemingly-attainable 50-75. That’s all well and good.
But June, you have thrown quite a few curveballs. Let’s get those out of the way in this post so that I can seem like less of a Negative Nancy.
Malady #1: Boot Camp
From May 24-June 18, I did a Boot Camp program 2-3 days a week, mostly from 5:30-6:30 a.m. I guess I can’t really gripe about this too much, since it’s not like anyone forced me to do this. HOWEVER, like a lunatic, I did sign up, and I realized two things. On the bright side: our bodies are capable of truly amazing things when we push them. I’m very proud of myself for doing this. But the second realization: the body, in realizing its amazing potential, can hurt like a *)#&@)(%*&@#) in places you didn’t even know you could hurt. An extensive “ab” workout can leave you hurting in your abs, back, chest, arms, legs… it’s crazy. Anyway, I survived, and while I didn’t lose weight (GAINED two freaking pounds. What the French, toast?), I definitely feel stronger and firmer. Mission accomplished.
Misery Source #2: PPCD Evaluation
This month, we’ve started Luke’s evaluation for PPCD. PPCD stands for Preschool Program for Children with Disabilities, and if he qualifies, Luke will start this FREE (insert harps!) program on his third birthday. God works in mysterious ways – I know that I would have thought you were CRAZY if you told me a year ago or even six months ago that I would be hoping my child qualified for this program. However, God knows what is best, and we’re hoping very much that this program, in conjunction with his current school for children with autism, will help Luke continue to make great strides.
To be clear: I don’t want to cast a negative light on my school district’s program, because its representatives have been nothing short of supportive, amazing, professional and courteous. But do you know what you have to do before your child gets evaluated for such a program? You have to fill out an ENDLESS amount of forms: questions evaluating every behavior your child does or does not do, along with one of those awesome (SARCASM ALERT) rating scales: Always, Usually, Often, Rarely, Never. Let me tell you, of the 1000+ questions we answered (I’m serious – over 1000), they were USUALLY VERY ANNOYING. Oh well. They are done. : ) And, to be positive: I will happily answer 10,000 more questions if it helps Luke qualify for this program.
Molar (?) Misery #3: The Craziest Doctor’s Visit EVER
OKAY, so I seriously defy any of you to top this story.
For the month of June, Luke has been getting his two year molars… or at least it seems that way. He’s been drooling much more than usual, he’s had… I’ll politely say “loose stools,” and he’s had his fingers stuck in his mouth all the time. A couple of weeks of this, and I’m thinking no biggie. Week three, and I grow more concerned, but a call to our pediatrician’s nurse makes me think this is about par for the course.
Then Saturday happened. During our visit to Jeremy’s parents’, Luke was pooping way more than normal. When we got home that evening, and at about 3:00 a.m., Luke woke up, just whimpering at first, but eventually he was full-out crying. I changed him, and he SCREAMED and writhed. It was awful. His little bottom was fire-engine red. Just bad. I calmed him down, starched up his diet and figured no biggie, but I decided to take him to see his pediatrician Monday to get things checked out.
That’s when the crazy started. Here’s the replay of the most random doctor’s appointment ever.
1. We enter the office. As long as we’re in the waiting room, Luke is calm. Oh yeah, he seems to think. This is where that cool bead-wire table thing is. Kick ass.
2. We get called back. Luke sees the scale, and, when asked to step on it, whimpers as if he’s ascending to the guillotine.
3. Luke gets weighed. (31 lbs.) Still alive, he gets his temperature taken. Normal. All good in the hood. To the exam room!
4. Dr. Scott walks in. Luke screams and sobs. Oh no, not that sonofabitch again, he seems to shriek.
5. I briefly explain why we're here (loose stools, molars coming in, diaper rash, blah blah), and, by the way, could you be sure his ears are clear, too? Or at least I do my best to explain this, as Luke is still whimpering/crying.
6. We get Luke on the table. Dr. Scott pries his mouth open with a tongue depressor to reveal four full-fledged molars. Predictable enough. He then looks back at his tonsils, and I hear the following:
“He has a foreign object lodged in his tonsil.”
Holy $heet, I think to myself. There is, in fact, what appears to be a fish bone sticking out of Luke’s left tonsil. [Yes, it may be gross, but I did keep it, and I have a picture of it for you here. I even put a penny in to show you a scale. And yes, I am, without question, one of the weirdest people you know. Shut up. : )]
While Dr. Scott gets a nurse, I simultaneously imagine the emergency room trip this is going to require and pray to God to keep me from passing out on the cold tile floor. Well, God was 2-for-2: no emergency room trip and no fainting. Isn't God great? (I know I have a humorous tone here, but for real: I am SO THANKFUL that this turned out okay. So scary!)
Dr. Scott gets Luke in what seriously appears to be a medieval torture device to hold his arms and legs down so he can extract that thing from his tonsil. (It’s a good thing, too: he in effect put manicure scissors into his mouth, so I’m pretty glad we had an anti-flailing device to keep Luke’s mouth safe.) By the way, I think the offending object is a feather from some stuffing from furniture. I have no idea how long it was in there, but I am so thankful that we caught it, and that I didn’t just think, oh he has diarrhea because of his molars coming in. No biggie.
So, post extraction, Dr. Scott takes a look at Luke’s bottom. Oh friends – the fun doesn’t stop here. Dr. Scott saw it, went “Ohhhhhhh,” and got a swab to perform a strep test…. on my sweet little boy's biscuits. Five minutes later, we get the news that poor Luke has a perianal strep infection.
In summary: feather lodged in a tonsil and butt strep. I’ll pause for you to absorb the WTF-ness of it all.
We got a prescription for an antibiotic… which smells and evidently tastes awful, as Luke regurgitated about half of his first dose. Awesome.
The good news is that Luke seems to have a very short memory of things. He’s fine within minutes of each little trauma. He crashed that night with his favorite book in his bed with him. All is well in his sweet little world.
From this experience, I have learned that you should take your child to the doctor, even if you think you’re overreacting. I mean, either a feather in a tonsil or the anal strep infection would be enough independently, but both? Good grief.
Anyway, June wasn’t all chaos. Coming soon: a post about the GREAT parts of June! (Hint: PHONE!!!!!!!)
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