The Latest

I thought about titling this post in the same manner I did my last post (by using a single word), but all of the words that came to mind were a whole heck of a lot stronger than "irritated", and remembering how many Baptist folks read this, I decided against it. But you can use your imagination, and after you read this, I'm sure you will be able to guess many of the inappropriate title words I considered using.

It all started last Monday when I took Camille in for her 6 month check up at her regular pediatrician. I took her by myself, having told both Jason and my mom that it was just a "routine" appointment and so I didn't need anyone to go with me. When am I going to learn that nothing is "routine" with Camille? To make a very long and crazy story short, I left the pediatrician's office on Monday with an EEG/neurology appointment for suspected seizures, a cardiology appointment to again examine Camille's heart for defects, and a very long list of labwork that we were to go over to the lab to immediately get done. The labwork was because our pediatrician noticed signs that Camille's hormones might have begun over-producing, to which he said the cause could be anything from another genetic condition to a tumor. Yes, he said a freaking tumor. And I didn't pass out. I was so proud.

He actually looked at me at the end of her appointment, after he had told me that he thought she might be having seizures, and that he was still concerned about her heart, and that he thought she could possibly have a freaking tumor, and said: "You're handling this pretty well." To which I wanted to say, "Really? Well, let's recap, shall we? From the moment my daughter was born, doctor after doctor after doctor has told me that there are all of these crazy, unheard of, obscure things 'wrong' with her, and yet no one can tell me why. And now, you are telling me even more crazy things that could be wrong with her, and all I can do is nod my head. What the heck else can I do?"

So I did. I nodded my head, I took Camille to get her bloodwork done, and I went home. Part of me wanted to laugh hysterically at the insanity of it all. But I was afraid that if I did that, it would turn into crying, and I really felt like this time, if I started crying, I might never stop. A friend asked me this past weekend, not knowing about this latest, if we were beginning to get some answers. When I shook my head with tears welling up in my eyes, unable to answer yes or no, she immediately understood and said, "No answers, just more questions, huh?"

And that's exactly it. I kept putting off writing this, hoping each day that we would have some answers about all of this new round of stuff, so that when I blogged about all of it, I could at least offer some explanations along with all of the new weirdness.

But no. Once again, I got a call from the doctor's office regarding Camille's labwork, and once again, they had no answer for me. The conversation went something like this:

Nurse: "We just wanted to let you know that Camille's labwork came back normal."

Me: "That's great! So that means that she doesn't have any of the things that he thought she could have? Mainly, I mean the tumor?"

Nurse: "Well, no, not exactly. It just means that he doesn't know what is causing it. He has no idea why the labwork came back normal. He still thinks something like that has to be causing it, but he doesn't know what. He's going to refer you to a pediatric endocrinologist."

Me (what I wanted to say): "Super! Another specialist! Just what I wanted for Christmas! Thanks so much!"

Me (what I really said): "Okay. Great. Thanks."


Yeah. So that's where we are. Oh, and don't let me fail to mention that we were back at the doctor today because Camille began vomiting over and over again late last night. She apparently has a stomach virus. The virus has also made it very difficult to feed her by g-button because it has caused her stomach to swell so much that nothing will go down the tube. If this continues into tomorrow, our pediatrician will have to admit Camille to the hospital to keep her hydrated. You know that things are bad when your pediatrician actually tells the nurse after the appointment to refund your co-pay because you have been in his office so much, and he hates for you to have to pay again. Wow. That's up there with the time when Henry was a baby and was screaming so loud when I was ordering a Coke at Sonic that the manager told the girl who brought out my order to give it to me for free since it sounded like I was having such a hard day.

Prayers--lots and lots and lots of prayers--would be appreciated right now. We have Camille's EEG/neurology appointment and her cardiology appointment this coming Thursday at Cooks, and I will try to post right after those to let you know what we find out.