We just finished our third hospital visit and IV-IG treatment yesterday. The whole thing felt slightly unnecessary, but I know our pediatrician and hematologist have to be extra cautious when there's any question about something weird going on with Nora.
Thursday morning, Nora stepped down off of something low and complained briefly about pain-- and then refused to bear any weight on her right leg for the rest of the day. I, in true harried-mother fashion, convinced myself it was nothing and rushed her to the sitter's house and then to work, but when the sitter called me to let me know she still wouldn't use her right leg, I went to pick her up and off we went to the paradoxically slooooow Emergency Room at Children's to get an x-ray.
As long as we were there, they decided to take Nora's blood, which had been holding steady at a respectable 30,000 platelet count for two weeks.
Though the x-ray didn't show anything (which could still mean that she had a "toddler fracture," which is basically invisible), Nora's platelets were down to 19,000, just one measly thousand below the threshold for hospitalization. So after 5 hours in the ER they got us a room in the hematology ward and started the IV treatment.
They made us spend the night this time, because they didn't want to take a chance on this invisible fracture causing excessive bleeding.
In the morning, Nora hopped down off the "big girl bed" (see the post below for an idea of how helpful this concept was in getting her to bunk with me) and resumed using her right leg without commentary. Though it could still conceivably have been a tiny fracture, I'm going with my mother's intuition and diagnosing this as a bad case of bonking, resolved by 24 hours of being carried around by her mother.
Anyway, we're home now and hopeful that this latest IV treatment gives her a nice, long boost and that her immune system stops dicking around. While we were in the ER this time, I did something that I've been able to resist up to know-- I cried when they told me they wanted to admit her. Rich wasn't able to get out of work until later in the afternoon, so it was just the two of us-- and at one point Nora alternated between saying "Nora crying" and "Mommy crying." I hated feeling emotionally out of control when I needed to be reassuring for Nora, but this whole thing is obviously really draining. Enough already.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
You have been very brave and stoic, but this "dicking around," as you put it,does wear on you. I don't blame you for crying. You know I would have come down to the emergency room to sit with the two of you. When this is all over, you may say to yourself, "I don't know HOW I did it."
Man, how could you not cry? Anger, anxiety, frustration are all rolling around in there. How is Nora's spirit holding up? Does she seem tired of all this, too? Still sending good thoughts your way every day :)
MORE PICTURES!!!
Post a Comment