Daniel wanted to come to the pediatrician with Eve yesterday. He was amazed by how well she handled her finger stick. Jeez, I prick my finger eight times a day and no one gets excited around here!
Eve's ANC is on the rise- it's up to 462 from 200 on Friday. Her hemoglobin was holding steady at 8.2, so no transfusion today. We do need to arrive at the clinic an hour earlier on Christmas Eve to allow some time in case she needs to be transfused before chemo. Unlikely, says the nurse, but you just never know. So basically, expect the unexpected. But if I'm expecting it, doesn't that make it expected? Be damned, Murphy and your law! I'm going to expect a speedy clinic day on Thursday.
One thing not to expect is that anyone else is going to look after your child as well as you will. It's at times a frightening realization to know that you are IT. Seriously, where did all these kids come from? I'm too young for this responsibility! I didn't go to medical school! I was a liberal arts major!!
Take, for example, the medicines your pediatrician prescribes to your young one to fight off an infection. I've never questioned it before. I just shake up that big pink bottle of amoxicillin and dispense to open mouths as written. But the next time the pharmacist asks, "Do you have any questions?", I will start with this one:
ARE YOU SURE THIS IS RIGHT?!? [This has been edited many times and it's as nice as I can word it right now.]
Eve is supposed to get 3.75 ml of Septra twice a day, every Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, to prevent a type of pneumonia that children undergoing chemo tend to develop. Running low on this concoction, the doctor faxes a script to Medco (the mail-away pharmacy). What arrived seemed a bit different. The label reads, "Take 0.75 ml twice a day, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday." Interesting. This little bottle is a three-month supply, huh? I guess it's super-concentrated and the doctors want it spread out over the week now?
Human errors happen. But it's times like these that I'd like robots as Eve's pharmacists. Robots who have been programmed by other robots. Domo Arigato, Medco Roboto!
Speaking of machines, do you know there are programs out there on the internets that will predict how tall your child will be at age 18? You simply enter in your child's sex, height, weight, age, and the height of both mother and father.
According to the calculator I used at BabyCenter.com, Natalie will be 6'0", Daniel will be 6'3", and Eve will be...
5 feet, 3 inches. We knew she was our Maggie Simpson! (Maybe Daniel won't be an entire foot taller than her on account of that Nasonex, though.)