Did I mention that Chance had a rash? No? It started 2 weeks ago as little pimply patches on his shoulders and was diagnosed as “post viral”. When you go to the doctor and you get a diagnosis, you believe them, right? I had heard that there had been a case of school sores reported at his childcare centre, but the doctor ensured me it wasn’t that. So I went on my merry way with my not-so-well little boy and had a fitful night sleep on Tuesday. On Wednesday morning, the rash had gotten worse and it had spread.
But I had been told it was post-viral, and that it should get better within a week. My instincts were telling me otherwise, but I was trying not to overreact. Plus, Chanbe was fine. No fever, no fuss, so we went about our day. Though, I avoided contact with kids in case his “virus” was still contagious, as per the doctors orders. By Wednesday night, I was starting to wonder, and after another sleepless night, and a worsened rash on Thursday morning, I booked him back in to the doctor.
The look on her face when she saw him made me so upset and angry. Definitely school sores. The rash was all over his shoulders and arms, and covered his legs and butt, and it was no longer pimply, but red and angry. I was given the antibiotics script and assured that we would be okay to fly to Brisbane the next day. When I got into the car, I burst into tears. I knew there was more to it, and had the doctor said at the first visit “if it gets worse, bring him back” I would have been back on Wednesday. I felt so guilty and horrible. Just thinking about it now makes me feel ill.
So Friday we set off for Brisbane on our 10 hour trip, and on Saturday morning, I was overcome with “the rash should be getting better. Why isn’t it getting better???” There were going to be other kids at the party and I was paranoid about them getting sick too, and after a couple of outsiders looked in, I insisted we take Chanbe to the Emergency Department at the Hospital. It was 10:45am when we got there. For the next hour or two, I was either crying or about to cry. We got in to see at doctor at 12:15pm, but he was called away 5 minutes later and never came back so we had to wait some more. At 1:15pm we saw another doctor who stuck around, looked at the rash and scratched her head. “Not a typical case of school sores. I’d like to run some tests and call my boss to have a look.”
The party had already started, and I was told to go along as there was no point in all of us missing out. I felt SO guilty for leaving Hubs there, especially since he was pretty sure it was going to be the same diagnosis as before, but he insisted. So after arriving at the party, having a cry with Mum, and getting hugs from my gorgeous family, I settled down somewhat. This was the third lot of guilt I felt – for not having Mum’s only grandchild at her 60th birthday party. Of course she understood, but I felt awful.
At one stage I got a text from Hubs to say that the big Dr was thinking it might be chicken pox, infected with staph. More tears. I left the party around 5pm when it was wrapping up and went to see my boys. They were doing great, under the circumstances. I kept apologising to Hubs and he kept telling me it was okay. Chanbe was an absolute trooper, playing with a balloon I had left him, and watching YouTube on Dadda’s phone. The Paediatrician came in around 6pm and said it was not a typical case of anything, and the best they could determine was that it was school sores, but they weren’t responding to the treatment. They changed his antibiotics and sent us home just before 7pm.
We took our little Chanbe home and he was fast asleep in no time. The rash started clearing up over the next couple of days, but it is still there, 2 weeks later. So now I feel like I don’t want to send him back to ChildCare in case he gets sick again. An irrational fear, yes, but one that I have to get over in my own time. The lesson I learned is to trust my gut. Even if I get told the same thing, I won’t be left wondering.