In Which Connor Acts Up Again And I Make A Strange Purchase

Connor Is Tired Of Fevers And Seizures.

So I had all sorts of big plans about what I was going to do today while Connor was at school.  They involved the a chocolate donut, the library, a cup of chai, sewing (AKA stabbing myself in the fingertips with a needle repeatedly-- I really need to get a thimble) and if I had time for it a trip to the grocery store.  But I only got as far as the donut and the library before I got a call from the school to come pick up my tired, crabby son.  He'd had another seizure: the second one of the day. 


The little guy's fever is back.

Seriously, what is the deal?  We've got that developmental clinic appointment tomorrow, and I'm probably going to ask them to do a CBC just to make sure that he doesn't have some sort of weird infection or something.  I wouldn't be surprised if they want to check out his hypothalamus too to see if he's got some sort of enzyme deficiency or something going on.  Not that I think they're going to find anything; our mystery child generally doesn't come with any easy answers.  But a girl can dream, right?

So now we're back to the Tylenol and Ativan regime, after a measly two and a half days off.  I've got a call into Connor's neurology clinic just to give them a heads up about what's going on.  Not that there's probably a whole lot they can do, but Ativan is one of those drugs you don't really want to mess around with so they'd probably appreciate knowing how often we're having to use it.  I don't even have to listen to any of the button options on their answering machine service any more; I've got the whole thing memorized.  I think my mom is the only person I call more at this point, and if Connor keeps this up she may take second place.

Sorry, Mom.



Very, Very Tired.  Also Blurry.



Anyway, so I didn't get my cup of chai or the dubious pleasure of using my fingertips as pincushions, but I did go to the grocery store once Connor had slept off seizure number two and bought a box of pediatric suppositories and a tub of ice cream.  Connor only has two major symptoms with Ativan, and they are insomnia (guess who's still awake?) and constipation.  The past couple of weeks have been enough to throw his system all out of whack.



The ice cream was for me, of course.  Just because I don't take prescription drugs (or any other drugs, for that matter) doesn't mean I don't have a medication of choice.  This time the cure for what ailed me came in Cherry Garcia flavor.  They might as well put crack in that stuff, it's so addictive.

I went through the self-checkout aisle because I didn't want the clerk judging me.  They probably already think I'm weird because I go in there late at night after derby practice all the time and not only am I all sweaty and dressed in strange outfits but I carry roller skates around with me, so I don't really need to add to my reputation.  And really, who goes to the grocery store just for ice cream and suppositories?  Weird people, that's who.  At least I had Connor with me and I wasn't wearing torn fishnets this time.  Torn fishnets add an aura of illicitness to pretty much any activity you care to do-- no matter how innocuous-- and grocery stores become a minefield of innuendo when you are dressed in derby gear. 

I sure as heck don't buy suggestive vegetables while I'm wearing them, anyway. 

At any rate hopefully we'll make it through tomorrow without incident and if we're lucky the team might have some ideas about what the heck we can do in regards to all these fevers and seizures.  In the meantime, I'm going to finish my ice cream and if I'm lucky I might be able to get in a little sewing right before bed. 

I've got my band aids all ready.

~Jess