Em went back to school today. She's still on antibiotics and has a pretty nasty cough, but the worst seems to be behind her. Chris also feels almost normal again, and I never had it very bad...which I hope means that I dodged a bullet and not that I still have a bad run awaiting me. Sophie, however, finally succumbed yesterday. We went to the doctor and she is now on antibiotics too, fighting off an ear infection and probably the flu. Today was a long day of amplified need. Normally Sophie tends to get fussy if I leave the room. Today, she would burst into tears if I even stopped looking at her. Here's hoping tomorrow brings her (and me) some relief.
Ironically, the most disturbing part of our visit to the doctor wasn't the routine checkup...it was when I was told that Sophie may have congenital torticollis and she's being referred to Children's Memorial Hospital. You can check out the link I provided to read up on the condition (thanks, Mom), but suffice it to say that what Chris and I have considered just a cute Sophie-ism all these months - i.e., her tendency to tilt her head to the right - is, in fact, probably more serious. I'm trying not to panic because we haven't even seen a specialist yet, and if she does have this condition, it sounds very treatable. But still, leaving the doctor's office today, I felt like a really horrible parent for not having noticed this sooner. Actually, if I'm being completely honest, it goes deeper than that - the truth is that I DID notice it, and my Mom noticed it too, and I just dismissed it because the idea that something might really be wrong with her scared me. It took the doctor insisting that I get it checked out - and checked out soon - to shake me out of my denial. I'm not proud of that, and it's a pattern that I've shown with Emma as well - not wanting to recognize or acknowledge when something is off. And if it turns out that my stupid refusal to do anything about this sooner compromises Sophie's recovery in any way, I will never forgive myself.
But, as usual, I am jumping the gun.
First step...see the specialist.
Second step...get diagnosis.
Third step...treat the problem.
Fourth step...mentally torture myself for rest of life.
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