Sunday, August 29, 2010

on with the show...

Buddy had his second real illness this week.  He was teething (and still is) this week, so it took us awhile to realize something was wrong other than the usual teething effects.  But Wednesday my mama-instincts took over, and I took him the doctor.  Doctor diagnosis - nothing except maybe a virus, maybe teething.
Thursday late afternoon Buddy developed a weird rash that continued to spread and get worse.  We gave him a bath incase he got into something. Still bad.  I call the doctor's office (which is minutes from closing) after doing some research online to figure out what this is.  Chicken pox is my only guess.  I describe to the nurse.  She obviously can't diagnose over the phone and recommends urgent care since their office is closing and mentions rashes due to allergic reactions can turn into breathing problems.  Freaks this mama out a bit, but I ask, "Is chicken pox going around?"  Nope. And then told again take to urgent care incase it is serious.
So we do.  We wait two hours to be told - roseola.  In roseola it is a virus babies/young kids get that is a fever and then a rash.  The rash appears when they are no longer contagious.  The rash is apparently not itchy, painful, or contagious.  I am very irritated that my doctor's office never mentioned this as a possibility - either at my visit or with my phone call.
Buddy has been so cranky this week due to everything.  He is normally a very happy little guy, easily content.  Nothing is making him happy this week, although he is sleeping pretty well.  I just feel bad that he isn't his normal self.
He is, when he feels up to moving around, crawling around even better these days. I can even prompt him (when he is belly-crawling) with a verbal "command" and a good chunk of the time he responds and gets on hands and knees to crawl.  Thank you, once again, physical therapy.
We have also figured out we think Buddy is trying to say "tickle, tickle, tickle" as he grabs/pinches/attempts to tickle us (or even at other random happy times), but it comes out, "ducka-dicka-duckle" or something like that.  We could be wrong, but that is what we think he is doing.  He has started to become fascinated with belly-buttons, his own and others', so I am hoping when we are out in public he doesn't try to lift up the bottom of my shirt (or anyone else's) in the attempt to poke their belly button.  Cute at home. Not as cute in a crowd.

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