I’m Not Job. Thanks.

Baby Iris Update:

Had second sleep study. They told us it would be over a week for results (what??!) I couldn’t stand waiting around and wanted sun so I took Iris early (before our Baja family trip) to be with my parents so Poppy could sleep and work hard and I could be distracted from how hard everything seems.

They called earlier than they said about the sleep study and said to come in that day. But we were already in LA.  The assistant told me the Central Apneas were 31 and obstructives normal at only 6. Hmm, I said. “Same results as the first time.” Centrals had dangerous oxygen desaturations. I called for many days to ask the doctor to call and talk to me about treatment but he hasn’t 1.5 weeks later. She said don’t expect him to call me.

WHAT? Either he doesn’t know what to do (like all the other docs) and he’s ashamed. Or he had hoped there were more obstructives so he could just to a tonsilectomy and adenoidectomy and he’s been proven wrong. Or he just won’t talk to me on the phone because he won’t get paid like for a visit. So I’m MAD.

Do you think a child’s doctor should have to call you to talk about the treatment plan he promised you before you went on with another traumatic, expensive test?   Let the mother just assume her child is in no danger, doesn’t need immediate treatment. But a mother can’t just let it go at that.

First dad then mom then me, got the flu. Mine turned into throat and sinus infection and 103 fever. Why does God hate me?  I am now on antibiotics. But I think they killed the antibodies in my breastmilk because now many days after initial exposure, Iris seems to be coming down with it. What do you do for a child who can barely sleep anyway and can’t take any of the drugs and remedies (chloraceptic).

I made her popcicles in ice cube trays with plastic spoons for handles. I am contemplating not going to Mexico if she has the kind of snot/sinus issues we did the plane will be cruel. Then there is no access to doctors if anything goes wrong. I am ready for this year to be over. The last two years to be over. Over. Over.

Dear God, I am not Job. I am not as pious as he and I do not love you as much as he initially did. I have my doubts about you. I’d like you more if you provided more chimera and miracle and less testing and torment. Thanks.

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About mooreamalatt

Find my whole bio here: http://www.savvyparentingsupport.com/#!about/cktc
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