Sam has been sick since Friday. Sick with what was, until yesterday, some random, unidentifiable crud. He wouldn't eat, he wouldn't drink, he had a fever and was very lethargic. Also, when not asleep, he went into what I like to call "siren mode," continually shrieking and disrupting interplanetary communications as far away as Alpha Centauri (about 25.8 trillion miles away). Perhaps you heard him? (He is doing it at this very instant.)
On Sunday we took him to the walk-in clinic because we were beginning to worry and, frankly, we were worried about long-term hearing loss. The P.A. we saw was unable to determine the problem, but gave us a prescription for antibiotics and told us to make sure he saw his pediatrician soon.
Translation: "Um...I don't know. But here are some antibiotics so you don't feel like you wasted your money coming here and, since it could actually be something serious, you should make sure he sees somebody who actually knows what he's talking about."
Upon seeing the pediatrician yesterday, not our regular doctor but one of his partners, she informed us that, because of his symptoms and the time of year, she believes he has the Coxsackie Virus. I know...this sounds very strange and exotic. It is the more scientific name for Hand, Foot and Mouth disease. I have been telling everybody he has the Coxackie virus because nobody knows what it is and Hand, Foot and Mouth disease sounds too much like Hoof and Mouth disease that pigs and cows get and it just sounds dirty and unsanitary to me. (Actually, it is distantly related to Hoof and Mouth disease in the same viral family.)
Anyway, he has been home from daycare since then (except for half the day today at which point Owen called me and begged me to come get him) and we have been "bonding."
Translation: he cries and wants to be picked up, put down, picked up, put down, picked up until I finally put him in his bed and he sleeps for more than 3 hours at a go.
I'm not exaggerating and I would be lying if I didn't admit that I live for these moments of peace and quiet, rare as they are lately. Because of the ulcers in his throat, he is in pretty constant pain and is taking both Tylenol and ibuprofen on a staggered schedule. This makes the nights very, very long. At least his fever has broken, though.
Owen said these were the days that would remind us why we wanted to have a baby. At the risk of sounding like a horrible mother who deserves to lose her mother of the year award, I told him that, actually, these were the days that made me wonder what I was thinking in the first place. Also I told him that I was a damn fool if I ever thought I could make it as a stay-at-home mom.
Those women are freaking AMAZING...and I say that without the slightest hint of sarcasm.