For those of you that aren’t connected to me on Facebook or haven’t picked up on my few Twitter updates about my sick little girl, here’s the long, drawn out, painfully detailed history. 1926 words of history. A post that has proven to me that if I just freaking blogged more, I could save you all the NOVEL that is Catching Up. Lesson learned. Hold on tight…

Two Sunday’s ago, 10/25, we took Lyla to the ER because of a fever of 102.7 that was not coming down despite Tylenol, Motrin, tepid baths, or any other method we tried. The visit went quickly and they were extremely respectful of the fact that I didn’t want to me in a germ infested waiting room with a baby. We were taken back to a curtained area within 20 minutes of arriving and were out of there in just under 2 hours. I was surprised and pleased. She was diagnosed with a double ear infection. Due to her allergies (that we’re really not 100% convinced of) to Ceflosporins and Amoxicillan, she was prescribed five days of Zithromax. I kept her home on Monday, she woke up from her nap fever free, and the rest of the week was completely normal. We had a very Happy Halloween (I started a picture post last week and lost it in all the drama) and then Sunday came again.

Last Sunday she woke up in the middle of the night. She had been pulling her ears earlier that night so I had given her Motrin. She didn’t feel warm to me, but she was certainly upset. We were up most of the night. That morning we got her dressed as normal and Dan took her to school. She was a little out of it, but we just thought she was exhausted from being up all night. I had a horrible gut feeling about the day and sure enough, at 10:15am, her teacher called. Her temp was 102 and I had to come get her. On top of that, she wasn’t allowed back the next day. I immediately panicked. My Mom had left for Florida two days before. My immediate back-up plan for a babysitter was 1200 miles away.

I attended a conference call at 11am that morning with Lyla laying across my lap unwilling to move, burning up with fever, and trying to sleep. If I moved or even just twisted my weight in my chair, she would let out this painful squeak. I was dying inside.

As soon as my call ended, I begged Dan to come home over IM. I knew she’d need to go to the doctor and I had to work. I hated feeling that pull. I just wanted to be a Mom at that moment. I didn’t want to have to think about anything other than her. I didn’t want to have to decide between caring for my kid and working. It was the worst feeling ever.

We took her back to the doctor Monday afternoon. Since her birth, she’s been seen at the same Family Practice that Dan and I go to. They’re affiliated with the hospital and I like all but ONE Of the doctors in the whole practice. Since there are so many, I can typically avoid her so it’s not a big deal… for me. The problem is that only two of them seen children. And I love them both, but actually getting an appointment with one of them when she’s sick is impossible. We wind up seeing another doc that doesn’t have the pediatric specialty and then I always wind up questioning the diagnosis and treatment… like this time.

The doctor on Monday afternoon told us her ears were still red and prescribed another antibiotic. This time for ten days. I was not happy with that diagnosis. I hate antibiotics. Especially with her history of acid reflux, the antibiotics can aggravate her stomach for MONTHS.

However, it seemed to work. I had to keep her home on Tuesday and again, by noon, the fever was gone. Thankfully my sister-in-law came to help me in the morning and I was able to balance both work and kid for the afternoon, though I hated doing it. At one point I was trying to write up notes from a conference call and she was just sitting on the floor in front of me crying. Just wanting my attention. Wanting a hug. I died a little more inside.

Wednesday morning she woke up happy and fever free. I sent her back to school, told them we were back on antibiotics and raced home to try to do as much work as I could in case they called me again. I called to check on her at 10:30 and was told she was totally fine. Happy and playful and totally herself.

I finished my day at 4pm, ran to the grocery story because we were out of Diet Coke (TRAGIC!) and even went to a Zumba class at the Y (which was AWESOME!). I went to pick her up at 5:30 and when I opened the door to her classroom, I noticed that she was half asleep on one teacher wearing different clothes than the ones I dropped her off in and the other teacher is under the table cleaning up puke. Apparently in the last hour, she had spiked the fever again, drank some water, ate some cheese and then immediately vomited. I felt terrible. When I took her out of the teacher’s arms, she was crying. And she was burning up. Again.

I brought her home and she fell asleep on me for about 45 minutes. When she woke up, she ate some dinner. I called the family doctor again and they just weren’t concerned. They said it was normal to still have fever 48 hours after antibiotics. I wasn’t satisfied with that answer, but what choice did I have at 8pm at night?

I kept her home Thursday. She ran a fever all day. Low, but still fever. I kept her home on Friday too because she woke up with 101.8. Friday I begged off of work. I needed to get to the bottom of this. I had tremendous guilt as I am really close to delivering my first big project and felt I needed to see a crucial day of deadlines through, but my kid needed me. I owed her more. I spent all morning trying to find another doctor. I needed a Pediatrician. And if that Pediatrician couldn’t see her, I needed to be guaranteed that another Pediatrician would. As much as I loved the two Family Practice doctors that have cared for her since she was 6-days old, I couldn’t justify staying there.

I couldn’t get into the first practice we tried, but got an appointment at the second one. After filling out a days worth of paperwork and personally delivering her entire medical record from the Family Practice to the Pediatric office, I got an appointment for her for that afternoon.

We saw the doctor and I launched into the history of the last two weeks. He checked her ears first and proclaimed that they were better and no longer infected. He then asks me questions about other symptoms.

Sneezing? No.
Coughing? No.
Any respiratory difficulty? No.
Vomiting? Just the once and I think it was a reflux attack.
Diarreah? No.
Discharge from her eyes? No. Mouth? No. Nose? None other than the occasional dried booger.

“Well”, he says, “I wish our first visit could’ve ended better.”
Me: Huh?

He tells me he can find no reason for the fever. He also said that he didn’t think it was flu as flu typically has more respiratory symptoms associated with the fever. He said as long as she’s eating (yes) and drinking (yes) and sleeping, then it’s most likely a virus, though he didn’t know of a Fever Only virus circulating. Neither did I.

He told us to come back in the morning and that they would try to get a urine sample. He mentioned a catheter because it’s quicker than waiting for her to pee in a bag. I turned white.

We made an appointment to come back in the morning and I drove off with even less answers. He wanted her off the antibiotics. Now I didn’t even have an ear infection on which to pin this fever. I cried all the way home listening to my phone buzz with text messages and emails from all the people that love us wanting an update. I had nothing to tell them.

Saturday morning she woke up with a temperature of 99.8. I hoped we were nearing the end. All three of us went to the doctors office prepared for the worst. I was hoping I wouldn’t faint when they did the catheter procedure. I couldn’t stop thinking over and over how if I could just trade places with her… if I could just make this go away…

They decided against the cath and just put a bag in her diaper. Naturally she didn’t pee. For hours. And they were closing at 1. Lucky me, I was given an extra bag and was told to try for Monday if I was unable to get them anything before they closed. I prayed that by Monday we’d be looking at the extra bag and laughing.

It doesn’t appear to be that way.

Last night her fever went away for a few hours. We were celebrating my Dad’s birthday and while we were there, though she was extremely quiet and very cuddly and even laid down on the floor a few times, she was cool. Her head was cool, he hands were a normal temperature. And she hadn’t had Motrin since before her nap. I was hopeful.

We got home late and I put her to bed only to have her wake up an hour later moaning. I went in and sure enough, she was hot again. I gave her Motrin and she slept peacefully the rest of the night.

This morning, she woke up fever free. I felt like dancing! But that dance didn’t last. After breakfast, she heated up again. And it hasn’t quit all day.

She took at 3.5 hour nap. She just seems so tired. Her eyes look funny. Her color is pale. She’s not herself.

I took her temperature before her bath and it was back up to 102.1. I looked at her and we both started to cry. I hate this. I hate this more than anything. I hate that tomorrow morning I have to make a decision again and risk losing my job. Because I contract, there’s no one else to pass the work to, really. Everyone’s busy. Everyone has a full plate and when you become the one they can’t count on, well, it makes sense for them to move to someone they can count on. This whole working mother thing? It’s hard. FUCKING hard.

So that’s where we are. No other symptoms, none of us have gotten sick, no other kids at school are sick – except one little girl in her class had something similar as she also ran a fever for 4 days, but it never went over 101 and was down to 99 on day 2. Lyla’s is definitely higher, less consistent, and not moving in one key direction… DOWN.

I obviously need to get her back to the doctor tomorrow. I just want answers. Why can’t someone tell me what’s wrong? Why can’t they fix this? A fever for five straight days is not okay. It’s not normal and it’s not dismissive. It’s NOT okay.