The Home Stretch

We're at 36 weeks now.  If she needed to come now, Evie would likely be fairly okay.

I don't know if we would be, but physically, Little Miss E should be fine with some extra medical care.

We submitted our cancellation notice to daycare to end Henry's time there.  It's a bit bittersweet because we'd gotten used to the routine, and Henry gets a lot of socialization time there.  Plus, with the daycare facility being a part of my employer's organization, I had the option of just dropping in to see him on occasion, especially if I had work to do in that building.

There's a mom-to-mom sale at Gibraltar Trade Center this weekend, so we're thinking of hitting that to look for some supplies and equipment for Evie, particularly a bassinet for her to sleep in.  We have Henry's old rocker-sleeper as well as a small cradle-like thing that came with the playpen that can be used in a pinch, but both of them are pretty low to the ground.  They'd be more appropriate for afternoon naps rather than middle-of-the-night when we're trying to sleep.

I think we'll be okay.  To say I'm not nervous would be a lie, though.

Correlation Leads to Consternation

A seemingly common theme purported by medical experts is that there is no scientifically proven correlation between teething and the collective symptoms of runny noses, fevers, and general crankiness.

This is the problem when one's conclusions are based on statistical analysis rather than a fussy baby that one sees every day.

While there may be a whole mean/median thing to it, I believe there is a correlation.  Especially when the coinciding occurrences of fevers, runny noses, and the vomiting that comes from not feeling good and possible nasal drainage going into the stomach curiously seem to accompany new teeth.

Each.  Time.

So based on such statistical evidence, my son has been catching a cold and then getting a new tooth as a result every few months for over a year.  Got it.

In other news that seems unrelated but will eventually converge back into the central point, we had an appointment with an otolaryngologist.  Henry will be scheduled for tubes in his ears because he's been getting ear infections pretty much non-stop since February/March.  It's been so frequent that we know how to store amoxicillin and cefdinir (amoxi in the fridge, cef at room temp) now without the pharmacy tech having to explain it to us.

While the procedure won't eliminate ear infections, it will reduce the frequency, and that alone is a vast improvement.

How this relates to the central theme of selective reliance on medical professionals' opinions and scientific evidence is this.  We have thus far experienced more encounters with medical professionals who don't seem to be as qualified or prepared to deal with children who fall outside the "Normal" spectrum.

And by "normal," I mean kids who fall around the 50th percentile in everything and reach the vast majority of developmental milestones on time or even earlier.

I understand that doctors see a lot of patients every day, so there's little time to dedicate to special cases.  I get it.  In my line of work, I have little to no time to deal with the Linux operating system because the majority of my work centers around the Windows world, and to a smaller extent, Macs.  So if someone comes to me with a Linux problem, I have to refer them to a Linux expert.

But that comes back to the whole irritation that I've had lately with medical professionals.  So my kid doesn't fall into neat and tidy statistical norms.  I get that.  But at least take our concerns a bit more seriously than floundering around in the shoals of Not Knowing How to Deal With This.

I appreciated that the otolaryngologist at least looked up what Fragile X Syndrome is and its effects and symptoms minutes before coming into the exam room to talk to me, but I couldn't help feeling a bit put off by that.  This was apparently the first time he'd ever heard of it or had to look seriously into it because voila, here's a patient in his facility who has this mythical condition.

I appreciate that research studies have carefully analyzed results to determine that there is not strong enough evidence to support a correlation between teething and fever/runny nose/lethargy/nausea.  Yet, despite the lack of statistical evidence, there is anecdotal evidence that it's a possibility or else, would it really be that popular an Internet search?

I'm a fan of statistics, logic, and evidence.  But sometimes, there will be enough observations that fall outside the normal distribution, outside of the n samples, and well into the alpha range (sorry; getting all stats-happy here).  The point is that the numbers on the sheet of paper that studied maybe 300-1000 children don't always adequately explain the one kid sitting and crying in front of you, who has shown an actual observable linked pattern.

I don't expect scientists to be watching Henry every day for the last 15-16 months to develop their hypotheses (and I'd be a little creeped out if they did).  All I ask is for medical professionals to maybe take me slightly more seriously, even if they're constantly deluged by hyperactive hysterical hypochondriac parents more frequently than they see me.

Maybe even let me finish a sentence.  That'd be nice.

I'd like a medical professional to be able to get to know us just a little bit more to understand that we're trying not to be Those Parents.

I try to research problems with my child before approaching the doctor so that I know what information they need.  I troubleshoot professionally, and while perhaps a bit cold to consider it in these terms, I am essentially troubleshooting my boy.

One night in urgent care, I gave the attending physician the level of detail and observations on Henry to where he asked if I was a doctor.  No, I've just answered the same questions from doctors enough times to where I know what questions are going to come next.  I also questioned the nurse's skills in weighing the boy when she declared him to be about 6 lbs. heavier than what I knew him to be.

It was from that moment that I resolved not to be so damn passive.

I have the utmost respect for medical professionals, but it became clear that they're also very prone to making mistakes and that rolling over when I know they've made a mistake just because I'm intimidated by their educational credentials and professional prestige is a bad way to go.  So there's the constant course correction I'm having to make, that consternation.

Balancing their medical expertise with the expertise I have in my son.  How much do I listen to, and how much do I ignore.  Which battles are worth fighting and for how long.

Catching Up and Cutting Loose

Parents everywhere -- not just those of special needs kids -- get caught up in the day-to-day affairs of their children, and it's very easy to lose sight and lose perspective of the world at large.  This is, of course, a significant contributing factor to the adversarial confrontations between childless couples and those who are parents, or stay-at-home mothers versus working mothers.

Perspective is lost, and both sides demand acknowledgement and attention.

Nonetheless, when we do get lost and caught up in the daily affairs of Henry and of Lori's pregnancy, we forget that the rest of the world is still merrily chugging along.  And in a way, we do miss it.  We look upon certain aspects of the past wistfully.

So when we receive the occasional buzz from friends who want to schedule time for us to enjoy adult company with advance notice, we're reminded that we do need the adult contact.  And it's greatly appreciated that they remember to fish us out of the proverbial lake of daily child care, because we certainly didn't.  And it didn't cross our minds to give them a buzz when we have some down-time.

And really, we do actually have down time.  All that talk of parents not being able to relax for the next 18-20 or more years is exaggeration.  After all, Henry's napping right now and what am I doing?  I'm writing a blog post!  I could be out running.  I could be playing the guitar.  I could be lifting some weights.  I could be drinking a beer.  I could be doing some more homework.

Down time exists, although perhaps not all at once or in a single large chunk.

But I digress.

Hanging out with other parents outside of the presence of our children has its benefits in that we are kindred spirits of sorts.  Even more so if the other parents have children close to the same age as ours, so we're all growing and learning as parents together, rather than being made to feel like we're behind the curve when conversing with parents of older children who've already grown past these stages and their contributions to the conversation are nothing more than jaded warnings, rather than celebration the wonders and discovery.

(as an aside, why do parents who have older children feel the need to do this?  It's vaguely insulting at best and outright rude at worst, as if what we're experiencing now as parents of a toddler is meaningless or insignificant compared to the haaaaarrrd worrrrk and trraaaagedeeeee of raising a teenager, or that we have NOOOOO idea....  Just because it's been several years past already doesn't give these parents the right to take away the joys and wonders that we're experiencing for the first time, and would like the chance to relish, as they already did.  It's condescending, and almost seems like a selfish need to turn the attention back onto themselves)

But it's also refreshing to spend time with other adults in a purely adult setting.  No talk of kids, schools, or pediatrics.  F-bombs are dropped with impunity.  Topics of running off for a weekender on a whim are rehashed.

This is also why I enjoy the company of teachers during the summer or even after the school day when the kids have gone home.  It's refreshing to be able to see my colleagues as regular, hard working adults.  Few things are as heart-warming as seeing the young, bubbly, blonde third grade teacher drop her shoulders, lose the plastic smile, and start swearing like a truck driver.

We all need some kind of balance and outlet.  It's very easy to forget when caught up in the day to day grind, whether kids are involved or not.