Ehrmagerd it was an annoying week. One thing that happened was this:
Which of these fingers is not like the other? Yea, I dislocated my stupid pinky on Tuesday. I’d done this a few times during my gymnastics career so the thing is now kind of prone to it. Then Sunday I awoke in a terrific mood… Frogson had slept well, I brought him into bed and was enjoying some snuggles and streaming Caspar Babypants on Jeff’s phone, (you need to go straight to YouTube and type that in NOW), I was going to go to Palm Sunday Mass (my favorite of the year)… and then I managed to jam my pinky and OUT IT WENT again. So instead I showed up to the urgent care place just as it was opening and did you know people apparently form lines to get into these places as they are opening on Sunday morning? So I’m in line outside the door with a fleet of tissue-clutching kiddies, a guy with a surgical mask on, a few other pajama-clad chicks with maladies unknown, and me with a cockeyed pinky finger. And they open the doors and our line trudges in and it was all kind of depressing and Orwellian. Whine. And this re-injury (bringing the lifetime total to 4) seems to have really done in the poor thing because it took like 5 tries for them to get it in, and that was sucky, and I swear it’s like hanging on by a thread in there. Sorry that was nasty. But the xray is baller isn’t it!?
Frogson too had an annoying week. Monday he had his two month visit with the family doctor where he was seen by two nurse practitioners and little man had A HECKUVA time. My poor spouse, parents, and a couple friends have already been subjected to this tale in excruciating detail so I apologize for those who are hearing this again. But they are going about the usual baby physical and suddenly Frogson started crying. OK, whatever, it happens, I scooped him up and bounced him, offered him up a boob snack, shh-ed in his ear, all the usual tricks that he is very responsive to. Nothing worked and the crying was getting worse and worse and worse and soon he was screaming so hard that all the veins in his head were sticking out and he was producing actual tears which I had never seen before. In fact this was by far the worst crying I had seen ever, much much worse than even the worst newborn moments I could recall. And every single mom instinct is firing in my brain and all I can think is something’s wrong, this isn’t normal, he’s in pain, something hurts. Which I said as much to the nurses, and they are retracing their steps and saying it started when the one was examining his ears, and I’m saying OK, well then what could have happened that he would hurt like this? And I didn’t mean it like “OMG you broke his ears with your poor skillz, I’m lawyering up!” I just meant I’m sure it was a perfectly fine exam but it triggered pain for him somehow. But I think they thought I was making the former claim, because they got CRAZY defensive and tried to convince me he was just hungry, or tired, or gassy, or worked up because he sensed my anxiety. And I’m insisting no no NO, it’s NOTHING like that, he’s never ever done this and something is wrong. Like, I was sweating, shaking, near tears myself, and thinking if it didn’t get better he needed to, like, go to the hospital! And they are saying “Well babies are always changing and your happy baby might not always be like that” and I’m like OKAY FINE but he was happy and giggling before you yahoos starting poking at him, so I don’t think his entire personality has done a 180 in the last ten minutes. In total he wailed for probably 15 or 20 minutes and he didn’t so much settle as he just kind of passed out from the crying, and proceeded to nap for SIX HOURS which was the longest he’s ever slept, even overnight.
He is back to his happy self of course, but I was REALLY rubbed the wrong way by what happened. I really don’t think the practitioners handled him incorrectly or anything, I could just tell they were 100% concerned with covering their butts and 0% concerned about finding out if there was maybe a medical reason why a normal physical would have put my kiddlet into such a tizzy.
I made my four month appointment for him but then went home and called around until I found a new practice to take him. I made his four month appointment with them but then the more I thought about it, the more I wanted him re-seen after what happened this week. I had a few other concerns about him which I had been bringing up to his first office repeatedly, and kept repeatedly getting told everything was normal and fine and would resolve itself. But now I was really starting to question their judgment and didn’t want to wait two months for a second opinion.
GAH I am SO GLAD I listened to my instincts and had him reexamined. Because the new office immediately got him in to see a pediatrician and she had very different opinions. Frogson’s head? Which I had been asking about since the start since he has a really strong preference for one side? And I kept getting blown off and told it looked fine just keep up the tummy time? YEA NO IT’S FLAT. She’s referring him to a neurosurgeon. Ehrmagerd. And an oddity on his neck that I was also assured was harmless is a “branchial cleft cyst” and he needs to see an ENT. Ehrmagerrrrd.
I know everything’s OK and we’ll treat it however we need to, but it just… irks me. It’s tough for me to draw the line between maternal anxiety and maternal instincts and that’s why medical professionals get paid the big bucks to help you navigate this kind of crap. This was a good lesson though in remembering that ultimately I am Frogson’s advocate and I don’t care how crazy I look, I need to triple check stuff if it seems off.
Sigh. OK. Talk to you later.