I was totally going to blog yesterday, but we were having some medical drama around here. Basically, my Mom Alert System has been going haywire for the past 24 hours, and I’m exhausted.
Long story short, we ended up in urgent care this morning.
I know that lots of kids get rashes, and they’re often pretty harmless, but when my kid gets a rash, he really kills it. You can’t tell in that picture, but he’s covered head-to-toe in red, itchy welts.
It came out of absolutely nowhere yesterday afternoon. BOOM. Hives everywhere. It was a little more dramatic than I was used to, but I assumed it was still a standard food allergy reaction and gave him some Benadryl.
When that had no effect, I started hyperventilating a little. I threw him in the bathtub, thinking maybe the rash was being spread by contact (probably a ridiculous conclusion), and then watched it explode even more. His face was swollen and red, lips a little blue, body doused in hives. WHAT?
Panicking by this point, I called Brent to beg him to come home early, totally anticipating that I was going to have to bust out the dreaded EpiPen. When he got home, I was on the phone with the doctor’s office (at 4 PM on a Friday—probably the worse time ever to realize you have a medical problem since all the docs go home early and the after-hours care hasn’t kicked in yet). They assured me that if things were going to go tragically wrong, they would have already by that point.
Weirdly comforting. I breathed for the first time in a few hours.
We made an appointment at the after-hours clinic downtown, but ended up canceling it, thinking that the rash was calming down and that there wasn’t much the doctor would be able to do about it anyway.
The pictures really don’t do it justice…
The next morning—this morning—the rash had died down in the areas where it had been heavier the day before (chest/upper arms/face) but was thick and angry in new places, like his legs, back, and forearms. But he didn’t seem uncomfortable at all—he was happy and eating/sleeping fine—so I decided to stay on the “wait it out” track, and headed off to a yoga class.
When I got home an hour later, he was, again, covered in hives. I couldn’t believe it! And that was game over. Ten minutes later, we were in the car to urgent care (me still sweaty and makeup-less).
The doctor confirmed that it was most likely an allergic reaction (we thought it could possibly be a virus, but he wasn’t showing any other signs of illness at all), and she recommended Zyrtec (an antihistamine). The end.
So that’s where we’re at now. Mason’s having a long, heavily-drugged nap (poor kid), and he’ll stay on the Zyrtec for at least the next week, until, hopefully, his system calms down.
The frustrating part in all this is that we still have no idea what caused it, and we might never know. I can’t even express how helpless and insecure that makes me feel.
I know there are worse things in the world, but I am so, so sick of this allergy business. I’m sad to say that it has colored my whole parenting experience, and I’m much more wary about the possibility of future kids because of it. I also can’t help looking at other people’s kids and thinking, “That must be so nice. And easy.” I know that’s unfair, and a crappy attitude to have, but I just feel like we got dealt a tricky hand here, and it sucks.
The one perk of being sick for Mason: it sometimes leads to surprise gifts.
I stopped by Goodwill after grabbing the Zyrtec from the drugstore and picked up all this for $7.
I swear the "Healthy Me” book is a coincidence…I just thought the animals were cute.
Any other parents out there feel like you’ve been dealt a tricky hand? How do you manage it?