Hives, Hives and More Hives

A's hives are back. Gah. I am just blogging about it because the blog has actually served as a pretty good record for the doctor as to when it happens. She seems to be coming down with a cold, lending to the hives when sick theory, but then M left a plate with a peanut butter covered napkin out on his desk yesterday that A discovered before I did, making things a bit murkier.

We have also been around kids eating peanut butter sandwiches all week. I am not one to tell other parents what to do or not do, but the other day I had to bite my tongue to keep from asking if the child who eats everything really had to have a peanut butter sandwich while sitting right next to A. And when I quietly move her to another seat, the parent in question got miffed about the whole thing.

I can't wait until the child turns four and we can do the tests for nuts. And while we are at it, I might have them test C for tree nuts while we are in there as I realized today that he has never had one because of our avoidance of such things with A.

Status Quo

The appointment with the allergist was both good and bad. The good, he agreed with the paramedics in that the breathing episode was probably not related to the hives, although of course it was hard to tell. The bad, we still have no real idea what is causing the hives. His best guess at the moment is that she is "allergic to being sick." Which is to say that she gets hives and additional congestion when her immune system kicks in. So as soon as she starts getting a sniffle, we are supposed to start dosing her with Zyrtec and Benedryl and see what happens. We should document the hives and get the pictures to him next time they appear (duh, why haven't I thought of that one before!), and come back to see him in a year when he will do some in-office trials with nuts and such, unless something massive happens.

He did do some testing to environmental allergens and discovered that she is "slightly" allergic to trees, which is why we are waiting another year on the nuts. Don't ask me to explain how the two are related, but apparently there is a link. She is not allergic to the cats (I knew that one, as Dumb Cat naps on her pillow almost every afternoon), grass, or mold.

We should keep lugging the epi-pen around just in case, as the whole "allergic to being sick" thing is just an educated guess. So basically, we walked out knowing not much more than we did walking in. Which isn't horrid I suppose, better than coming out with an "Oh my GOD, how did we miss this life-threatening allergy" diagnosis, worse than coming out with a "Oh, she's allergic to cats, send the cats off to your aunt's house and she will be magically cured." But at least we have a plan to deal with the nuts issue that involves an in-office trial, which makes me feel much more comfortable than randomly trialling them at home.

Thank you again for your support and continuing to read my obsessive posts on this issue. I now return you to your regularly scheduled drivel, which will involve another post in what is now becoming a series of "Look what the cat dragged in." And I have several knitting projects to post, I just have to get around to hassling with hooking up the camera. I believe that I even owe you a tour of my upstairs from almost a year ago, which I just might do if I have the camera hooked up anyway (depending on what the state of Mount Washmore is in my hallway....).

Status Report

• We head back to the allergist tomorrow. I was really hoping that when A turned three we would be magically done with this and we would never see the man again, and but clearly that is not to be.
• Not that the allergist isn't fabulous, he is. He is great with A and great with me and really listens, but still. One never particularly likes it when one's primary care doctor has to send you out to a specialist because your case is too complicated for her to manage.
• Half of the medical staff I have talked to have not been at all concerned about A's reaction, the other half have totally freaked out. Which kind of leaves me scratching my head and trying to decide which camp it is that I am supposed to be in.
• Clearly the allergist is in the latter camp as not a minute after I had hung up the phone after scheduling an appointment for the end of May with an unconcerned nurse, a different, highly concerned nurse called back and said he wanted to see us immediately.
• Although as Rebecca pointed out, as lovely a man as he is, he is also quite good at making sure he isn't vulnerable to a lawsuit. Which is rather understandable, given his choice of field.
• And since A's hives came back this evening (minus the breathing issues) I'm rather pleased that we are already seeing the allergist tomorrow, it saves me from having to call back and throw myself on the mercy of the nursing staff and beg for an appointment.
  
• On happier notes, the Cinderella Polly Pocket's glass slipper has been found (not that you knew it was lost) and all is good in the world of Disney Polly Pockets again.
• And Dumb Cat came back from wandering this afternoon freaked out beyond belief, so I have to assume that he discovered that the old house is now occupied by new residents.

Just the facts

So now that we have calmed down and made it through the night, and I don't feel quite as shaky (although I am still shaky and don't quite know if I will ever stop shaking), I can somewhat better explain the events of last night.

As I was reading A her bedtime book last night, I noticed hives covering one side of her face. I gave her Benadryl, they spread to the other side of her face, and then started disappearing on the first side. She wasn't getting them anyplace else like the last time, she seemed perfectly fine so I put her to bed.

About an hour later, she started coughing on the monitor. She's had a cough for a few days, so I didn't get worked up, but then it kept going and going and started to sound particularly strange, so I went up to check on her. She was still coughing, and seemed to be having a hard time swallowing. Which is about when I started to freak out a bit. I grabbed her out of bed, brought her downstairs an sat her on the counter while I tried to grab some water and get her to talk to me. She couldn't sit up, she started shaking a bit, and wouldn't respond to me when I spoke to her. I grabbed her Epi-Pen, the phone and sat on the floor. And I dialed 911.

All I could manage to get out was "My daughter is having a hard time breathing. She had hives." As I was sitting on the floor waiting for the 911 operator to relay the bits and pieces of information to the paramedics, I kept holding the Epi-Pen thinking "I need to jab her. I should really jab her. I can't do it. I can't do it." Then just as I was about to release the safety on the pen, she stopped coughing and started standing up and lurching about a bit.

A police officer arrived, and as I opened to door for her, A pretty much passed out on my shoulder. The officer and I kept shaking her awake until the five (or maybe 6?) EMT's and paramedics arrived. They checked her out, declared her perfectly fine, and thought that the coughing was actually caused by a mucus plug stuck in her throat rather than an allergic reaction. They asked if I wanted to go to the hospital, and I declined after discussing it with the head paramedic who said that there was really nothing to be done now since whatever her issues were had been resolved. They left and I finally freaked out.

Everyone was fabulous. The police officer and EMT's were quick to arrive (under five minutes, probably more like two or three) and nice as nice could be. They didn't make me feel dumb for calling (and I did, and do). C slept through the whole thing, and A has no recollection of the events and was very curious as to why she woke up in Mama's bed. Now I guess I need to call the pediatrician, although ours is still on maternity leave so I am dreading having to explain our whole medical history to her partner who doesn't know us from a hole in the wall and will probably think I am nuts (which I may be, I suppose).

It is just so frustrating. She gets these hives, we have no idea what causes them. She always seems to have some odd, unrelated complication when she does get them which leads me down the "Oh my God it is an allergic reaction progressing" path. And then by the time a qualified medical person makes it on the scene, it all resolves. And every time I say "This is the last time I am going to panic over this." But then something happens, like HER NOT BREATHING, and what am I supposed to do? I just want to cry.

And the beat goes on

Still hives. Although last night we were smart enough to dose A with Benadryl BEFORE she woke up covered in hives, so we were not treated to a third night in a row of kids TV at midnight. The fact that PBS Sprout runs 24 hours a day is both useful and scary all at once. As clearly there must be enough children up watching TV at midnight to make it worthwhile...

But I digress. We head into the pediatrician's this morning right after we drop C off for a consult and a strep test, as apparently Cousin C breaks out in hives with strep throat. May it be strep...oh please let it be strep. C has developed "itchies" as well, although his are not apparent to the naked eye, if you know what I mean. And A is convinced that she saw the dentist on Friday night, despite all of our attempts to convince her otherwise. Even C had thrown up his hands in disgust with a "Believe what you want, A. But you DID NOT SEE THE DENTIST!"

So that's about all the news that is fit to print over here. A has some hives as I write, but I am trying not to dose her with Benadryl until after we see the doctor. Why, I don't know, as it isn't like she is going to be able to do anything besides look at them, nod, and say, "Yep, look at that, hives!" but at least I'll have independent verification that she does in fact have hives. But as I told Rebecca yesterday, it just isn't a major holiday without a trip to the pediatrician's. Do you suppose it is tacky to hand deliver her holiday card?

Unknown

Last night, A woke up fussing. I got annoyed as I was in the middle of baking cookies for the teachers and pies for Christmas. She wouldn't settle down, and I finally noticed that she was scratching incessantly at her legs. I put some lotion on, and then suggested we put new pajamas on her. When I took off her clothes, I saw she was covered, I mean covered, in giant hives. Her legs, arms, and hands were swollen. Her sides and her face were covered. She was coughing.

M took her downstairs and put on the TV while I phoned the pediatrician's office. After getting on the list for a call back, I remembered to give her Benadryl. And then we sat and watched the hives grow and change and spread. The nurse-on-call got back to us, and very nicely suggested that I take her to the ER since the Benadryl didn't seem to be taking the hives down. "The cough is a little concerning," she said. And my hand hit my forehead. Duh, coughing=closing of airways. Hives + coughing, not so good.

M put on her green princess pajamas, and off we went. On the way, the Benadryl seemed to kick in, and she started chatting with me. "It is dark! Which doctor are we going to? Oh! Is the hospital decorated for Christmas? Why don't I have a coat on? Is it raining? I was very itchy Mommy. I love you Mommy." When we finally got the hospital, the hives on her face had gone down, but her legs were still covered. We signed in, and we waited. And waited. And waited some more. I called M (from a pay phone! They still exist! And they cost 50 cents now!), A fell asleep. We were finally seen by the triage nurse and fast tracked in the pediatric ER.

But by this point, the Benedryl had been in her for almost three hours, and the hives were gone. The ER doc gave her some steroids, made sure I had an Epi-Pen and knew how to use it. "Did you consider using it?" he asked me. "No, quite honestly I didn't," I replied. "You might have wanted to consider it," he said calmly. "It sounds like the coughing wasn't that bad, but if it had progressed, or the hives had spread to her eyes and lips, in the leg, ten seconds, call 911." I just blinked. "But we don't even know what she is allergic too!" I screamed internally. "She hasn't had a reaction to anything in 15 months! I've stopped worrying about this!" But instead of freaking out at the poor ER doc I thanked him, scooped up the still sleeping A and headed home.

She woke up on the way to the parking lot, and chattered all the way home while I held the tears back. "The hospital was decorated Mommy! With a tree and lights! I was a good girl! Is it still night time? I didn't even see a doctor, am I still sick? My face is sticky. I got medicine? What flavor? Oh, I like grape! No, I think I want to sleep in my own bed. But don't forget to put your jammies on! Did daddy have his dinner yet? Did he like it? I love you Mommy."

I put her into her bed, and M and I just looked at each other in the darkened house. "I don't get it," said M. "How did this happen? How can someone react like this to something and we can't even figure out what it is?" and later "This isn't how it is supposed to happen. This isn't what I envisioned when we had kids. Why?"

As I type, A is still sleeping, hive-free I think. I even managed to sleep, somehow, last night. And Monday, I guess we head back to the allergists to begin what I had really thought we were going to avoid, the long, painstaking process of trying to figure out what she is allergic to. And I have to steel myself for the fact that my daughter is going to be carrying an Epi-Pen for a very long time.

The Time A had the strange rash

I love my daughter dearly but have decided that she does not do illness well. For the first 6 months of her life, she had nary a sniffle, cough, or fever. I applauded myself for having such a healthy child. Big mistake, as soon after it all went wrong.

Her first cold turned into a sinus infection. Her first cough turned into pneumonia. Her first tummy bug almost landed her in the hospital for dehydration. Now she has a bizarre rash that may or may not be hives, may or may not be a really bad reaction to the chicken pox vaccine, or may or may not be a random virus of some other unknown variety. The Dr. is unwilling to commit.

So I am stuck with a child with a rash/pox/hives that appears and disappears with the drop of a hat, a fever that similarly comes and goes, and not a clue when I can take her out into the world again.
I figured this was as good a time as any to return to blogging and try to find the humor in it all.

Humor, where are you?