That Nap

This is the post that every mom who blogs writes at some point. When her child begins to let go of their nap. When the toddler finds the strength to say, I think I can go all day without a break, thanks. And the mom screams, NOOOOOOOO! And then a car explodes behind her.

Moodle had a very successful ear tube surgery, and a week later we are seeing better language skills (she can suddenly say HIPPOPOTAMUS perfectly. and loudly). And we've gone a week without an ear infection, which is also a good sign. She's still adjusting to loud places and sudden noises. For a few days, she would cry whenever Max Powers would sneeze.

But in the week since the surgery, she has only napped 2 and a half times. Some days that's fine, other days she's cranky mess by the end of the day. On Sunday, she fell asleep crying in my arms 2 hours before her bedtime.

She's doing better napping at school than she did at home. But I don't know why the change. Did the change in volume in her world distract her so much she can't sleep? Is everything more interesting now that she can hear? Or did her ears just bother her so much that she was exhausted from the discomfort, and now they don't hurt?

All of those possibilities are positive, and I'm still glad we did the surgery. But man, I am going to miss that nap. That was MY nap, too, missy! Cue car explosion.

Syrup Ears

Moodle's surgery was yesterday, and it seemed like it went about the same as most ear tube surgeries do. The doctor met with us after the surgery but before she woke up. He said that they found that the fluid in her ears had thickened to the point where it looked like syrup or glue.

It broke my heart. It's her parents' jobs to make sure she gets what she needs. We were hesitant on ear surgery, because we heard so many stories of unnecessary surgery. Max Powers made the comparison that it was the braces of pediatric surgery, because they can be such a money maker. But in hindsight, we know that she needed it. The surgery seemed tailor-made for her problem.

I'm excited to see what happens to her language development. She wasn't behind, but she had the standard toddler-mangling of words happening. Maybe now she'll speak more clearly.

She's back at school today. At drop-off, the kids were being loud and rambunctious, and she seemed scared by all the noise. I know she'll adjust, but it was hard to leave her.

Jesus Christ, Otolaryngologist

While the Wizard of ENT seemed like a knowledgeable, experienced sort of fellow, there were a few things in his practice that threw me.

For example, in our exam room, there was a certificate showing that he was a member of the Christian Society of Otolarygology. And nothing else on the walls.

My first snarky thought was, I had no idea that a simple carpenter had any surgical experience. My second, scarier thought was, this guy is old enough that his medical knowledge may have been significantly influenced by religion. Does he really use the most modern methods? Does he use prayer as a substitute for knowledge of best practices?

Apparently, this exists, and the website is kind of scary. What I found most off-putting about the website was the distinct lack of medical resources. Plenty of spiritual ones, but no medical ones. In fact, you could use the same website, use a find and replace for Otolaryngology, and insert any surgical field, and no one would be confused.

Christian Society of Podiatrists. Christian Society of Orthopedics. Christian Society of Ophthalmologists. All of them could use this website for their ministry.

Is this enough to ask for another doctor? Could I find a doctor in that practice that wasn't a member of that society? The second thing that gave me pause were several conspicuously placed Bibles throughout the practice. My guess is, if you were a partner, you toed the spiritual line.

Like most things, I turned to the internet. Those two things made me worry that perhaps I wouldn't be getting the best medical care if my doctor was distracted by his faith, but I had other resources. I took some deep breaths, and tried not to let prejudice or fear get in the way of fact.

The practice's website was noticeably devoid of any spiritual references, as was my doctor's specific page. And I find that he went to top medical schools and residencies (even if it was in the 1960s), has acted as Director of Surgery for a local, well-renowned hospital, and has held official positions recently in the American Academy of Otolaryngology. Also, their website was a font of information about Moodle's surgery, including links to modern best practices.

Information has a way of calming me down. The more I know, the better I feel, with just about everything. And now I have information. I have good reason to believe that whatever the Wizard believes, he believes in modern medicine, too.

The Wizard Has Spoken

We visited the ENT on Friday, and he told us that the surgery option was a no-brainer for Moodle. Apparently, ear tubes were designed for her particular problem. And since she is otherwise completely healthy, the surgery should present almost no risk to her. It took him all of 10 seconds of looking in her ears and mouth to make the recommendation.

He spent plenty of time answering our questions about getting her ears wet, flying, risks of surgery, and everything else. And another nurse in the office followed up with us while we were scheduling the surgery about more specific things we thought of after the doctor had left.

I'm still a little scared for my baby. But on to surgery!

Minty Butt Fire

Poor, poor Moodle.

I mentioned that we are in the middle of another course of antibiotics for Moodle, and trying to stem the tide of poop that usually comes with it. And we have failed. Augmentin has won, and has claimed by daughter's butt.

Moodle has been blowing out her diapers since Sunday, despite several servings of yogurt and bananas every day. And yesterday, her butt was so red and inflamed that she couldn't sit down. She actually penguin walked for most of the morning.

I called the doctor's office, and spoke to the nurse. She told me to put Maalox on her butt, let it dry, and then put on a barrier layer like I had never constructed before. A fortress of petroleum jelly so thick, we would not be touching her skin the next time we wiped.

I had never heard of this Maalox trick. And the internet seems divided on it. But I figured it couldn't hurt, so we ran out to the store to get some. She did great at the store, and I managed to grab some other things we needed while we were out. But Walmart was out of Maalox. With the pharmacist's help, I found the off-brand equivalent, but they only had it in mint flavor. Close enough, I reasoned.

I don't know if this trick is supposed to burn, or if it's the mint additive, but Moodle screamed like the devil as I put it on her. And then ran away the next time she saw me get the bottle. She was cool with sitting on an inch thick pillow of Desitin and Vaseline, though.

By the end of the day, she had stopped penguin walking, but was still sitting down very gingerly. Like, old lady slow. I actually saw her walk up to her bouncy toy, put a hand on it for a moment, regard it with a tinge of sorrow, and then walk away.

I took her back to school today, with butt paste barrier in place, and instructions to use the whole damn tube of diaper cream today, and that I would bring another tomorrow. It was a rough, slow drop off, effectively erasing all the progress we've made on getting me out quickly. But I guess minty butt fire is as good of an excuse as any to start over.

The Wizard of ENT

Moodle was diagnosed with yet another double ear infection yesterday. If my memory serves me, this is the third this year, and the 12th in her lifetime. If you count by ear rather than instance of infection, I think we are up to 19. This bought us to the long-dreaded point of no return on the path to the ear, nose, and throat doctor, and almost certainly to tubes.

We know it will help. She's miserable with these things, and does a great job making us miserable too. And everyone we know that has gotten them said it did great things for their kid.

But we were hoping to squeak by one more time into summer without needing them. She didn't get any ear infections last summer (the last one was in May, and they started up in October), so I don't know if having surgery in April is the right thing. And I'm not thrilled to put my kid under the knife. And I'm certainly not looking forward to calling my insurance to see if this is covered.

In the end, we always do what's best for Moodle. And we'll fend off the flying monkeys along the way. Today the flying monkey is diarrhea, as we begin another round of antibiotics. At least she likes yogurt.