a very special hernan-dos

After a very scary coughing spell, Ed took Elian to the ER Monday night. I really thought my child was dying. We were going to take him in earlier, but then it seemed like he was feeling a little better. A check-over, chest xray and nebulizer later, they told Ed it was just a virus -- a very nasty virus.

Fast forward to Wednesday. One of the times Elian wakes up in the middle of the night to cry and tell us how much pain he's in, for some odd reason I decide to feel his glands on his neck. They were HUGE. So Ed gets a nurse on the horn. The nurse tells us we should either bring him into the emergency room or to the doctor first thing in the morning. Since Ed and Elian had spent a good 4 1/2 hours at the ER just two nights ago, we figured it wouldn't get him care much earlier considering it was already midnight or so.

So the next morning I took him into the doctor. Our doctor wasn't available so we went to a nurse practitioner. I usually love nurse practitioners. But this one, not so much. I think it may have been her first day on the job. After I told her the whole horror story about the ER and the glands, she looks him over and tells me it's probably just a virus, that he should be better in just a couple days. "Um, don't you want to check his glands?" I ask. "Ooohhhh, his GLANDS." She then tells me again that it's probably just a virus she's going to prescribe some kind of magic mouthwash. I start to probe her about other tests she could do and she mentions a throat culture. "But it's very rare for someone his age to have strep throat..." She goes to consult with a physician. Then she comes back and just in case I didn't quite understand before explains, "Yes, he says that strep throat is very uncommon in children his age and that a throat culture probably isn't necessary." That's when I asked for the throat culture. "He's not going to like it," she says, as if he's thoroughly enjoyed the experience up to that point. "Oh, I know," I say. "He might throw up," she says. "I'm ready," I say. For some reason, she really didn't want to give him this throat culture. And the more she didn't want to, the more I wanted her to. So she does it. He cries for about 1/2 a minute. We leave. Shortly after we get home, the nurse practitioner calls. "Um, I got the lab results from the throat culture. And it's positive."

So now our little boy's been on antibiotics since yesterday. And all I can say is that I'm very thankful. I just felt so helpless watching him cry in pain. All we could do is squirt Tylenol and Motrin down his throat every few hours. I can't even imagine what it's like for parents who have a child with a chronic illness because my heart was ripped apart five times over through this ordeal.

Moral of the story: Trust your mommy instincts.