Deterioration

Things are deteriorating here at the Telemnar house.

Larien and Finwe were happy, running around outside, laughing at me. Now, well . . .

I had to wake Finwe from nap to get Inwe from school. Unhappy isn't a strong enough word. The tears were projectile.

Larien got annoyed that I wouldn't let her have the uninflated latex balloon by her lonesome in the rear seat of the van.

As soon as Inwe left her classroom I knew from the glaze in her eye that her fever of unknown origin had returned. Upon learning that Larien had even touched the balloon, much less tried to inflate it, she burst into tears.

I think the round of Pepsi cheered everyone, me included.

Larien is watching Cars. Inwe is upstairs watching the tv via satellite. And, in a moment of idiocy, I'm allowing Finwe to feed himself applesauce. Oh, he just fed me. It's good.

I hope Inwe recovers once the ibuprofen reaches therapeutic levels. We have to finish building her puppet theater for school tomorrow.

Does he look cured to you?

We may be nearing the end of the vomit. I am still changing very runny, disgusting, nauseating diapers. He has, however, managed to eat a bit today. He smiled, too. That was encouraging.

However, his lips have a shade of blue to them. That isn't good. A heart rate of 150 with panting didn't get us to the doctor (normal for his age is 90), but the blue lips will.

I do not relish the idea of Finwe in a medical facility again. He hates the atmosphere. It is the type of fear that is not easily assuaged. Wish me luck.

UPDATE:
He's on the mend! Yipeeee!

I can expect the diarrhea to last for another 5-7 days. He probably won't eat for a few more days as his intestines are cramping. He is drinking milk again, which will help with the calories.

He's lost one pound and four ounces. Now, he's a giant (as Kuky likes to describe her daughter), so a pound isn't much. Yet, it does tell you how ill he was.

The blue lips? Metabolic acidosis. He'll be fine once he gets over the dehydration.

too soon

I spoke too soon.

Don't call. I won't be able to talk.

Cheap Diapers and Illness

I have discovered a good use for those non-name brand diapers that I occasionally buy when feeling cheap. Diarrhea. Messy farts. I do not feel wasteful when I have to change Finwe's diaper every hour because of those before mentioned gross topics. Yep. Cheap diapers. A good buy for this type of illness.

When it comes to illness, I will also note that Finwe is a very active, smiling baby when healthy. This is how I know he isn't healthy currently. I haven't seen him smile today.

However, he is sleeping in his crib. Whew! My arms are seriously aching. He's worth it, but I am grateful that he is a bit less needy.

I'm sure Larien, who is at home today, is happy that I'm not constantly holding him.

All Tuckered Out

Finwe has been very ill. He began with vomiting on Saturday morning. By afternoon, we thought we had had the worst of it. He slept through the night, which we took to mean that Sunday would be okay for him, a day of recovery.

How wrong we were.

On Sunday I held him from the moment he woke until this morning, when he woke up next to me in our bed. He could keep nothing inside of him--either end. It was after 8pm when he finally drank some tea, and his body allowed him to keep it. His heart was racing. He was panting. His fever was nearing the limit of over the counter medicines to control it. We kept our fingers crossed as he slept again in my arms.

9pm--okay, still with his heart racing

10 pm--liquids kept inside, another four ounces, heart racing but slightly less.

11pm--more liquids in, fever finally under control, heart rate back to normal

He's still dealing with messy diapers and doesn't want me to put him down. I won't be blogging until Wednesday. This is done one handed with him collapsed over my shoulder. Anyone want to come clean my house? My help is dealing with a bad case of arthritis. Phill is good dad, but he stinks at keeping things in order.

Every Moment is an Opportunity for Education

Today the three females in the family had dental appointments. The idea was that Finwe would come with us, but we had to have an emergency Daddy intervention. Finwe threw a royal fit in the dentist's office. Thankfully, Phill was taking a late morning at home.

Inwe and Larien waited for their hygienist while I got my teeth cleaned. Except, they didn't really wait. They peered into my mouth along with the very accommodating hygienist. They queried the woman on the instruments she used as well as what she was getting off my teeth (very little, but still something). The entire experience was very good, and both learned something.

Combing Count

Thursday: 2. One was completed after medicated shampoo--removed copious amounts of nits (eggs) and a few (I shudder as I write this) insects at various life stages. This was the day that I realized I could not get a 16 month old baby to sit still long enough for a proper combing.

Friday: 4. Why four? I was getting paranoid and wacky after all the washing and vacuuming. A few live bugs removed and just a few nits. The last comb through revealed no lice. I felt better sleeping that night.

Saturday: 2. Much to my dismay the morning combing revealed one adult louse (where the f$%& did that come from?) on Inwe and four nits on Larien. I think the entire neighborhood heard my scream. I made Phill vacuum upstairs as the girls and I enjoyed some outside time with friends. White Dragon got to romp with two fellow canines on eleven acres. She was dirty, wet, and deliriously happy. (I have photos, but that would mean I'd have to switch my de-licing focus.) The after-bath combing had two nits and two nymphs (non-egg layers). Better, but not perfect.

Sunday: 2. Nothing in the morning on either of them. That, however, did not mean that the sheets weren't washed and the floors weren't vacuumed. Finwe is quite enamored of the vacuum cleaner now. The evening, ah, the evening combing was lovely. I did find one first stage nymph (just hatched) on Inwe, but nothing came out of Larien's hair. Finwe, of course, has had nothing on his head. I still give it the once over just to make sure.

They can both go to school tomorrow morning. They have no nits. I will still comb their hair tomorrow morning before making the final decision. The woman who cleans my house is coming tomorrow, and I'm sure she will attack the house with gusto. Her son also chopped off a very long head of hair two years ago when his class was attacked with a lice outbreak.

All of it

In the quest of a louseless home, I took my children to the hair salon. These are women who understand what it entails to rid a house of lice. They have dealt with it themselves. They felt my pain and probably smelled the sweat from my labors of removing all the bed linens for washing /drying/replacing and vacuuming every inch of the carpet upstairs.

Inwe and Larien knew why I was bringing them. Inwe had noticed that the time I took on her long hair was much longer than the time I took on Larien's hair. Yesterday, she was crying with thought of having shorter hair. Today, she was eager to jump into the chair.

As soon as Ms. Sabrina had finished, Inwe exclaimed, "I look good." We all agreed. Every woman in the salon agreed. Inwe does look good with shorter hair. Her eyes really get your attention now. She flipped it and twirled. She couldn't keep her hands off of it.

Then it was Finwe's turn. "Are you sure?" Sabrina asked me for the third time.

"Yes, " I assured her. "I know he has nits. I've seen them, but I can't get him to sit still long enough to get them with the comb. If he doesn't have hair, he won't have lice. I'm serious."

"Okay," she sighed. Sabrina suited me up with a cape (I brought an extra shirt for Finwe after the cut) and sat me in the chair with Finwe on my lap. I gripped his arms firmly in mine and held tightly. The clippers started.

Sabrina was quick and careful. We worked silently, her shaving and me struggling to keep Finwe still. We were silent because any words we would have uttered would have been drowned by Finwe's wails. He was angry at being held. Tears streamed down his cheeks. His head glowed red.

In my peripheral vision I saw Inwe in distress. I shot a look to Sheri who stopped the haircut she was doing to make sure Inwe understood that Finwe was just angry and not in pain. He wasn't in pain. Sabrina made no nicks. She was good.

As Sheri comforted Inwe, Larien stepped closer to the chair. "Mommy, why are you letting her take all of Finwe's hair?"

"It's got to go, Larien. You know why. What was in your head?"

"Lice. Little bugs that are sucking my blood. I don't want them to suck my blood. We have to kill them."

"That's right. You stay still when I comb your hair." I shifted Finwe to allow Sabrina access to the other side of his head. "Finwe doesn't."

Larien interrupted me. "If he doesn't have hair, the lice won't suck his blood?"

"Yep, " I grunted as Finwe flailed at me with a newly released arm.

Not long after that conversation, Sabrina was finished. Finwe had no hair. He quieted his wail to a slow moan and flopped onto my shoulder. We got him changed and brushed clean of hair. He touched his head. A look of interest popped onto his face. He felt his head again.

That was the theme of the night. He likes the stubble of his hair. He touches it often.

Go ahead--scream at me for shearing my son's head. I can tell you that there are no nits or nymphs or adult lice on that scalp. And, he's cute enough that he looks good.

Words have real meaning

Unless you have actually nit picked or used a fine tooth comb, you are no longer allowed to use those descriptions.

And, for all the information you'll ever need on this topic--go to the National Pediculosis Association.

If you'll excuse me, I have some more washing, combing, and vacuuming to do.

(Cross posted on I once was HP.)

Told you so

Today Inwe is home from school with general malaise. I use the term malaise as she doesn't have dripping, pouring snot (or any snot at all as I can tell) or coughing or sore throat. However, if you had been at our house yesterday evening, you would understand why I will not subject a teacher to Inwe at this time.

She could not control her tears. She was a mess. When the ibuprofen kicked in Phill and I were so grateful for pharmaceuticals.

Three outfits a day

Since Saturday I have been up to my armpits in grossness. I'm going to be a lady and not be too explicit, but for two days Finwe kept only Pedialyte in his stomach. And, since Saturday the average amount of outfits in a day is three. I have been mostly changing his pants due to the liquidity of what is in his diapers.

One day I had gone through every pair of pants that I had brought with me, and Finwe busted through the diaper again. As I was picking the girls up from school, I raided Larien's extra clothes. That day Finwe wore dark blue pants with flowers.

I had hoped today would be different, but he proved me wrong. He's already had a bath as this time the goop ran completely down his legs.

Someone make it stop!

Oh help!

She did it again!

This time with an M&M. This time a quick breath in her mouth while holding the unobstructed nostril closed did the trick. I expect chocolate boogers sometime today.

All in a day's dinner

Let me set the scene.

Characters: Sarabeth (cleaning up the plates from dinner), Inwe (running in circles), Finwe (alternating between crying and screaming as he runs after Inwe), Larien (finishing her dinner at the bar next to the kitchen), Phill (Oh, wait, that's right. He wasn't here! Interpret that with emphasis.)

Inwe: Ah, he's gonna get me. He's gonna get me.

Finwe: AAARRRRGGGHHHHH! AAAARRRRGGGGHHHHHH!

Sarabeth: Inwe, quit that. He's not going to hurt you. Finwe! Quit screaming.

Larien: Oh, oh, oh. [Pinky finger shoved in nose.]

Sarabeth: Larien, don't pick your nose. Eat your food.

Inwe: Ah, ah ah, he's getting closer. [Runs breathlessly to hide behind chair.]

Finwe: AAARRRRGGGHHHHH! [Looks frantically for Inwe. When he doesn't see her, we hear . . ]Waaaaaaaaahhhhhh!

Sarabeth [moves toward Finwe]: Inwe come out. Larien, stop it. It's okay, Finwe. She's right there. Go get her.

Inwe: AAARRRGGGHHHH! [Runs to the hallway to do another circle.]

Larien: Mommy! I have a pea in my nose.

Sarabeth: Oh, crap! [Reaches for phone to page the absent father.]
******************************************

To make a long story short. Suction didn't work. Pepper in her nose didn't work. Blowing into her mouth didn't work.

Phill returned my page with advice from a PICU doc--put Afrin in the nose to reduce swelling.

I called the neighbors for some tweezers. Somehow the ones in my first aid kit went missing. Such a time to discover this. After getting Finwe to bed I got Larien on the kitchen counter to attempt an extraction.

In the middle of the extraction procedure, I got another call from Phill. Our pediatrician was at the same meeting and counseled that as long as it was a soft object to leave it.

"Well," I said, "I've already gotten some bits out, and it really hurts her." Phill passed on more advice: Keep trying, but don't stress over it.

I decided that one last try was all I would need. Out it came. Can I have a beer?

Oh, that's right, I don't really like beer any longer. Such a shame. I could use one right now, if only just to celebrate the succesful extraction of the pea.

The Saga of the Spots

Yesterday we took Larien to the doctor about her increasing spots. The pictures aren't great comparisons, but they are better than nothing.


The first is of Larien in April.


The second is of Larien in June after treatment with the selenium lotion for the suspected fungal infection.


Our pediatrician now believes that she doesn't have a fungal infection. He also doesn't think that Larien has an auto-immune disorder that Phill suspected. Her growth is too good. (Having a thinking pediatrician for a husband can be difficult. I was quite worried all weekend.)


The last picture is of Larien today. I'll take Larien to the dermatologist next Tuesday in the quest to discover what is causing the spots.

Gross Picture

Okay, it's not that gross, but I had to show Larien what her infection looked like. I took a picture. Sorry it is all fuzzy. She doesn't like to let me near it--that's how bad it hurts her. She was moving quite a bit. It's a better picture than I thought it would be.

She's on an antibiotic for seven days. I also have to wash her hair everyday and not reuse towels just in case this is a resistant strain of bacteria. Let's hope this is the last of the sequential infections on her head!

Oh really? Staph infections on the rise? I believe it.

Last night I was reading some news from my Earthlink start page. Under the heading of Health News was this headline:
Staph Skin Infections on Rise in U.S.
Oh, really? I believe them as I am currently dealing with the second pus-filled infection on Larien's head. It is difficult to tell from this picture, but the red area surrounding the scabby area is about the size of a dime. Read a bit of the news story:

Researchers analyzed all skin infections among adults who went to hospital emergency rooms in 11 U.S. cities in August 2004. Of the 422 cases, 249, or 59 percent, were caused by methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus, or MRSA. Such bacteria are impervious to the penicillin family of drugs long used for treatment.

The proportion of infections due to MRSA ranged from 15 percent to as high as 74 percent in some hospitals.

"This completely matches what our experience at Vanderbilt Children's Hospital has been," said Dr. Buddy Creech, an infectious-disease specialist whose hospital was not included in the study. "Usually what we see is a mom or dad brings their child in with what they describe as a spider bite that's not getting better or a pimple that's not getting better," and it turns out to be MRSA.

The germ typically thrives in health-care settings where people have open wounds and tubes. But in recent years, outbreaks have occurred among prisoners, children and athletes, with the germ spreading through skin contact or shared items such as towels. Dozens of people in Ohio, Kentucky and Vermont recently got MRSA skin infections from tattoos.

The good news: MRSA infections contracted outside a hospital are easier to treat. The study found that several antibiotics work against them, including some sulfa drugs that have been around for decades. A separate study in the journal reports the effectiveness of Cubicin, an antibiotic recently approved to treat bloodstream infections and heart inflammation caused by MRSA.

I fit in that category of parents worried about the pimple (in Larien's case an infected hair follicle) that won't get better. I don't think this is MRSA, but it is a possibility, especially with Phill working in a hospital.

What is there to do with Larien's infection? The plan was for a visit to the pediatrician. She doesn't have a fever or any swollen lymph nodes, so it isn't cellulits like her last infection. However, she wouldn't let us near the back of her head, and we certainly didn't want to end up in the ER over the weekend with a much sicker kid. I decided this morning that she was dirty enough to need a bath. She readily agreed. As I was washing her hair . . .Pop! Pus oozed onto my hand. Is this good? Yes. Why?

And, doctors need to lance the wound to get rid of bacteria rather than relying on a drug to do the job.

"The most important treatment is actually draining the pus," Gorwitz said. Many times that is a cure all by itself, she said.

Since this morning, she's let me put a warm compress on the wound and allowed me to get more of the green pus out. Being a mother can be so gross.

The full study is published in the New England Journal of Medicine.

27 August 2006
I'm beginning to think that Larien is cursed. She has another one in her hairline. Anyone think it is time for a trip to the pediatrician?