Our parenting nightmare, part 3

**Part 3**

October 17: Syd seems better today and merrily enjoys a treat of mac & cheese for lunch, prompting me to grab my camera to document her grubby face afterward. I think this face is a mess, but the next day...


October 18: ...she wakes up with a different kind of mess altogether. A rash has taken over her entire body. Since it doesn't seem to bother her - she's not scratching at it or complaining about it - our pediatrician's advice nurse says it may be the infection's visual manifestation as it leaves her body, so we pray that this is just the very ugly end to her illness. The affected areas are even hot to the touch.

I call Amy to regretfully inform her we're not going to be able to make it to Salem this afternoon to make those apples into cider, after all.



October 20: It becomes evident that the rash is beginning to itch her badly. A visit to Dr. Moshofsky's office confirms that this angry rash - "hives, PLUS" - is actually an allergic reaction to the darn amoxicillin...we should have discontinued it days ago. Both times the fever spiked, we happened to be elsewhere and unable to see our regular pediatrician, who would not be so quick to give her such powerful drugs. So we keep giving her new drugs that keep causing new problems and who knows what the original cause of the fever was in the first place...AACK! We assure Dr. Moshofsky we will no longer be satisfied with any antibiotic prescription from anyone else but him.

October 22: Just when I think maybe the worst is behind us, Sydney wakes up with her face completely swollen. This is in addition to the rash, which has evolved even further. The effect is eerily reminiscent of how my face looked after an infection following the removal of my wisdom teeth. "Think: someone wearing a fat suit. Like Eddie Murphy in a bad movie," I describe to Dr. Moshofsky (whom we've now seen or spoken to four of the last five days). Our fear is what happens if the swelling proceeds to her throat and blocks off her airway, which Moshofsky cautions us to keep an eye on.

Benedryl - now the fifth medication she's had in her system - helps the swelling largely subside by the end of the day (though the ensuing stares from strangers while at the store to purchase this leaves me wishing I'd been able to leave Sydney at home. Poor thing - she probably appears to have leprosy.) We are at our wit's end: just when it seems like she's turning a corner, some new and equally disturbing symptom hits her. We're hopeful that once this allergic reaction is done with, she'll be out of the woods.

October 23: The last stages of rash mottle together into ugly purple bruising as the reaction finally seems to work its way out of her body. It was too upsetting to document in its worst stages and, believe me, you wouldn't have wanted me to post those photos anyway.

BUT, Syd's fever is up again; Dr. Moshofsky has us bring her in for a look, disappointed that her temp isn't either staying the same or getting better. After a fairly subdued at-the-end-of-our-rope discussion, he suggests blood tests as well as urine and stool samples to check for abnormalities. While four of us hold her down, the nurses try for blood there at the clinic, but she's so dehydrated they poke around for a full minute and end up blowing her vein. Sydney was not the only one crying after that episode.

October 24: With Shannon along for moral support, I take Sydney in to Emanuel to try for the blood sample again the next morning. Their expertise in pediatric patients pays off...this time goes a lot better! Shannon holds Sydney on her lap (since I don't really have a lap these days, nor do I want a struggling Sydney to wallop her unborn sibling in the process) and just one verse of "Itsy Bitsy Spider" and one long, red-faced, silent Sydney scream later, we have our blood sample. Later, what Sydney recalls about the event is that she received a sticker afterward. =)

Our results will be back after the weekend; we're told to watch her carefully and call if anything more should develop during that time. She seems to be doing a lot better now, so Drew and I discontinue the Tylenol and Motrin cocktail she's been downing for - off and on - over three weeks now.

October 27: Results from blood work are back...everything looks normal (besides the fact that her levels are slightly anemic, but wouldn't yours be too if your exhausted and guilt-ridden mama had bowed to your little 2-year-old-hearted desire to eat nothing but Rice Crispies for two days beforehand?)

October 28: Finally a steady normal temperature for a few days and symptom-free! Happy Sydney seems to be back and we're thrilled to have her...we nearly forgot what that was like after such an extended time feeling icky.

The verdict is that it must just have been a string of infections that took her out one after the other, attacking her immune system when she was already down. Not as firm a conclusion as we'd like, not much to go on as far as how to prevent this in the future, but if it's over, we're satisfied!

* * * * * *

Sorry for the long post. In a large part, I wrote it down just to have it on record, as Dr. Moshofsky suggested that journaling through the episode may assist in future diagnostic purposes.

But more importantly, we're meant to learn from those curveballs in our lives, and I want to make sure we learn what lessons God had for us in this test and remember and make known those blessings that He has covered us with along the way.

What we've taken from all this:

• Thankfulness for God's protection over our little girl. The whole scenario could have been worse in so many ways, but God was watching and had Sydney in His hands. We'll later get to relate this story to her and share with her how good her God is and how much He loves her.


• Gratefulness for her overall health. I have new respect and sympathy for the parents of a chronically ill child. The emotional fatigue from just three weeks of a sick child complicated by a roller coaster of symptoms and reactions resulting in few satisfactory answers has made us appreciate the simple gift of health! I think the very fact that she has always been so healthy made this even tougher for us to weather... we just weren't used to asking the questions we were asking and living with the continual fear of what the following morning would bring. We are blessed to say we have it pretty darn good most of the time.


• Renewed appreciation for our pediatrician. We'd always liked him, trusted his expertise, appreciated his non-alarmist methods, and considered it a plus that he's a fellow Christian who attends our church. However, the shared concern that occurs over the course of an intense mystery illness like this brings the relationship with your care provider to a new level. Drew observes that Sydney's sure worked her way into Dr. Dean Moshofsky's heart, too!


• Realization for the need of increased vigilance in the future. With this experience under our belt, we are now armed with the knowledge that Sydney is prone to these febrile seizures, to be extra attentive to a possible fever in her, and how to handle a seizure should it ever happen again. I'll simply do some things differently, like always carry children's Tylenol in my purse and firmly question any call for the use of antibiotics in my child. We'll also know to be on the lookout for this in Sydney's future siblings as well.


• An increased love for our daughter. How is that even possible? Drew and I marvel at just how much more precious she's become to us and how much we truly value her and can't imagine our lives without the sweet spirited girl she is. She is such a joy to us...our little trooper.

If you've had the fortitude to read this far, it means you, too, must love our little Sydney girl. We are thankful for your presence and touch on her little life!