I was told when E started crèche that he would catch every bug going, those were the breaks when we were putting him in contact with snot covered children for multiple hours, where it wasn’t a million percent sanitised every ten minutes. In my head I put this down as a necessarily ill, bound to happen eventually when he hits school, and the benefits for him, me and our relationship were much higher than the pains of sniffles and coughs. The line “living in the doctors” was mentioned a few times. He’s certainly fulfilling that prophecy. We’re lucky my GP is close by and lovely, and that he’s not one of those children who screams the place down when in any proximity of the place. Sure, she has the cool fire truck toy in her surgery, he practically runs into the place excited (sick? Him? Never healthier than in the doctors waiting room!).
He’s currently got his third double ear infection in a year. To his credit, he’s taking it like a champ, he had the same thing five weeks ago and it seems the antibiotic didn’t do its thing quite enough. Between that and his tonsils which seem to like to join the party every now and again, it’s his fourth antibiotic in sixteen months. We should be experts at administering it by this point.
This time, it’s Augmentin.
The word itself makes me retch, I wind up with other not so nice reactions to it any time I wind up taking it, and that smell… E has been on it once before; after which he stopped eating for a whole month. Right back onto formula full time as if weaning was something I had imagined up in my sleep deprived haze. He didn’t trust me anymore, not that I blame him. Even now, he often force feeds me anything I try to feed him first – as if he is testing it for poison. Yet when we headed into the doctor again after the weekend of misery, we were set to experience it all over again. Prayers that perhaps this time it would be different remained unanswered. There has been no scientific breakthrough, no pharmacists have found a flavour that can disguise the rancid taste of the liquid.
The child sees the syringe and freaks out. It doesn’t even have to have medicine in it. I’ve tried handing him a spare one, it gets flung at my head. I tried the spoon. It went in his hair. I tried putting it into vanilla flavoured soy yoghurt, nope, Augmentin soy yoghurt was not a hit. Nor purée, nor juice. I’m afraid to turn him off any other foods. Each dose (and there are three a day) is a twenty minute battle where both of us wind up crying or close to it. It is certainly doing my diet no good, as the comfort eating desire starts creeping in afterwards. I’m afraid he will start to hate me, see me as someone trying to kill him. He doesn’t understand that I am doing this out of love and necessity for his ears not to be glowing red beacons of infection.
He’s taken to refusing pain relief in liquid form too, so on advice of the lovely ladies of the IPB blogging group, I’m pursuing the idea of Paralink Suppositories, oh what glamour. He used to like Nurofen, now he won’t entertain it. I’m searching for a miracle and coming up with not very much. I’m starting to hit the end of my tether.
One day the child will grow an immune system. Until then, you’ll find me hiding under my duvet, praying they change the antibiotic flavouring… any ideas? All answers on a postcard please (or in the comments. Literally searching for a miracle, smoke signals will do at this point).
If you liked this post, you may enjoy taking a look at my notes I’d give myself (knowing what I do now) on the day I found out I was pregnant. Even better, I’d love to hear your own thoughts on the topic in the linky which is attached to the bottom of the post! Join in the fun, let those feelings out. Chocolate, wine and newly received sanity for all.