I don’t want to whine. I know it could be way worse. Blah blah blah. But man does this Hand Foot and Mouth deal deserve some nasty strychnine laced insults.
Here’s what I’ve been dealing with since Saturday morning:
– a hungry little girl who can’t eat because she has sores all over the inside of her mouth. She throws herself at food and then wails piteously as soon as she takes a bite. Then she buries her face in my shoulder and sobs before picking her head up again and trying another bite. It’s torture.
– a tired little girl who falls asleep only to be woken up by what I assume are shooting pains from the diaper rash that has turned her skin to mush. She bounces and jerks in my arms, trying to get herself away from her wet diaper. Then she howls through diaper changes, kicking me the whole time, and only settles down long after I’ve replaced her wet diaper with a dry clean one. She goes back to sleep sobbing softly. Half the time she won’t let me put her back in her crib. She’s spent quite a bit of time sleeping in my arms these last three days. It makes it hard to work, or even type.
– a cranky little girl who doesn’t want to do anything that doesn’t involve touching me, being in my arms, or being draped across my chest. She’s heavy. And sweet. But heavy.
– a little girl who knows when her medicine is wearing off and who begs for her next dose and then falls into a sad little heaving heap when I tell her she can’t have it yet. I call her my little Motrin addict. She’s cute when she grabs the cup and gulps it down. Except, you know, that it’s not cute.
– a little girl with nasty looking blisters all over her hands. They don’t seem to bother more than her sense of propriety. She points them out with awe, showing me all her “booboos,” then she goes back to ignoring them. I have to fight the urge to touch them and check on them every two seconds.
It is not a dangerous life threatening illness. Technically it’s no worse than a cold. The symptoms are just different and oh so much more challenging.
According to the pediatrician day 3 is the worst, and that was either yesterday or today, so we can hope to see some improvement soon. Maybe she’ll sleep a bit better tonight. Maybe she’ll be able to eat some of her yogurt in the morning. Maybe I’ll be able to go back to work and let her go play with her friends again, instead of being bored at home with me.