Last month I took Lexi to the doctor because she had a high temperature for a couple of days. She was 13 months old and stranger anxiety had set in. She was nervous as they sat her in the scale to weigh her, but when the doctor came in and actually touched her, she lost it. He looked in her ears and at her throat, palpitated her abdomen, and Lexi screamed the whole time as if she were dying. When the doctor didn’t notice anything unusual during the exam, he had the nurse draw blood to check the levels for infection. The doctor left the room, and as soon as I got Lexi calmed down, a nurse came in. Lexi clung to me for dear life as the nurse pricked her finger and squeezed 5 or 6 drops of blood from it. Lexi howled. Interestingly, she was equally distraught by the little tiny band aid the nurse put on her finger. I guess Lexi didn’t know what it was or why it was there, but she knew she wanted it off!
Lexi’s white blood cell count came back at 22,000, which concerned the doctor. He decided to test her urine to see if she had a bladder infection. Have you ever tried to collect a urine sample from an unpotty-trained 13 month old? It’s not pretty. A nurse comes in and “cleans the area”. Then she uses industrial strength tape to attach a plastic bag to “the area”. Then we wait for results. This is the second time Lexi has had to have her urine collected in her short little life. And both times the first bag leaked. The nurse had to rip off the first bag and tape on a second bag. Poor girl!
When the urine came back negative for infection, the doctor decided to treat Lexi for a bacterial infection. Yet another nurse came in and injected an antibiotic into Lexi’s leg. After 2 hours of pain and crying, we went home.
Fast forward to Sunday. Lexi had a low grade fever. It eventually reaches 103.5. She had no other symptoms, just like last time, so I waited. Monday and Tuesday she still had a 103 fever, so I took her to the doctor Tuesday morning. As soon as we started walking toward the exam room, Lexi started acting skiddish. By the time I got her to the scale, she was in full blown meltdown. Her painless weigh in was followed by a petrifying visit from the doctor, the finger-pricking nurse, and the doctor again. All three encounters involved Lexi crying hysterically from the time the person opened the door to come in until well after they had closed the door and left. I am convinced Lexi remembered the pain of the June visit and was experiencing one of her first long-term memories. It’s interesting to know she actually has that capability now.
The good news: her white blood cell count was normal (low, even), which means she just has a virus.
The bad news: we are going back to the doctor next week for a check-up and immunizations 😦