A new illness joined our household this week.
Hand, foot and mouth disease.
That name. That name is just kind of like…guh.
Laila caught the virus and spiked 102-degree fever. She wailed every night for almost a week over her sore mouth and sore throat.
I got to go back to her doctor’s office – the one where I delivered an Oscar-winning insanity performance in the waiting room the other week. Wee!
Staff members sent me packing for missing a rescheduling cut-off by two minutes. This triggered an impassioned speech indeed about the dire lack of compassion displayed at this clinic (!) Did I stop there? No. I followed up a few days later in a one-on-one talk with the doctor. Whiny e-mails? I don’t do those. I prefer face-to-face confrontation. Sometimes, I covet it!
She was capable, I told her, a great doctor. Her staff members? Haha. They left something to be desired when it came to dealing with me. You know, the paying customer? One of them was just unprofessional. I told her exactly which ones and exactly how. And for that reason, I’m leaving the practice, I concluded, relieved I’d never have to return and show my face. I hoped I prompted a yell chain that would reach those fools who did me wrong. Take THAT. HAHAHAHAHAHA.
And then I returned.
I did indeed find a new doctor for Laila, but we haven’t been there yet and this was an emergency.
I felt like an idiot. It’s a familiar feeling.
Well, the staff treated me just fine this time, and I made sure to be on time.
Laila was lethargic and weepy and had sores in the back of her throat.
It was a case of the hand, foot, mouth.
And it’s highly contagious.
I had a sore in my mouth last week, and felt run down. My eyes were glassy.
I was swigging coffee one morning and noticed it wasn’t doing its job.
“Good God please tell me I’ve not become immune to caffeine,” I said to Mark.
Nope. Just a mile case of the hand, foot and mouth disease.
Our nanny caught it and passed it to her husband. I was mostly immune, Laila’s doctor said, which is why I could carry on like a high-functioning run-down person. Mark, on the other hand, got really sick, spiking a fever, with the shivers and a sore throat.
The only one to avoid getting sick after having some kind of contact with our house has thus far been wee Eli and the nanny’s dog.
Luckily, the virus is not respiratory, which would be worse for someone with CF to catch.
I just hope he doesn’t get sick, not because he has CF, but because it just sucks when any baby catches anything. The poor little things can’t tell you what’s going wrong. They just cry. And I’m sleep deprived enough.
We’ve been doing the best we can to keep all sick people and the stuff they touch far from him.
It’s almost 1 a.m. and I just spent three hours cleaning and wiping down a whole bunch of surfaces to kill this stupid hand, foot and mouth, which likes to live on surfaces for days.
Of course it does!
So I had grand plans to blog and talk about cystic fibrosis awareness activities, but instead, I bleached things.
May is cystic fibrosis awareness month.
If you’re like me with awareness months, I’m kind of like, “Meh.”
There are just so many of them.
And I’m like, “Yeah, yeah, I get it. I’m AWARE.”
Even so, and yes, it is because my son has this disease, I am excited to put my own spin on CF awareness.
We are raising money for research. The link is in the left sidebar or right here.
Our first Great Strides walk is coming up fast. We made T-shirts!
I’m pledging to post a blog a day for the month of May. And not just because it rhymes, though that is a bonus. I’ll try my best not to put up utter crap.
I went ahead and made This is Eli a Facebook page you can feel free to like if you follow things that interest you that way.
There are ways to contribute that are totally free and/or way more fun than just parting with cash.
It’s hard, I know. Even if it is for a good cause.
Hey, we’ve all gotta make rent/mortgage/car payments, etc. I totally get it. Not offended at all. Support comes in lots of different forms, and I’ve felt so much from so many places since we started our journey with Eli on a path we didn’t anticipate. I’m grateful beyond words. Oprah told me to say that. I do whatever she says.
I’m working on some fun ideas and I hope to pull off some interesting things with the ‘ol blog this month.
I’m not trying to be vague and mysterious, I’m just exhausted.
It’s cool. I’ll sleep when I’m dead.
It feels good to have a cause.