In a little while I take Grayson to see a specialist about the migraines he's been having. All those "24 hour flu bugs" I thought he was having since the summer? Not flu bugs. All migraines. He has been vomiting from the pain in his head. I feel like a world class idiot for not seeing it before.
He had a monster episode this past Saturday that finally had me putting the pieces of the past few months "illnesses" together.
This one. I can hardly stand it.
Many times he begged me, anyone to make it better. He said he wasn't going to live through the pain. An hour later, I was actually starting to worry about this myself as I was watching the pain climb and explode in his head instead of recede from the medicine we gave him.
Finally, when he (literally) passed out twice in my arms and woke up in agony, clawing at his forehead again, I got up to call the emergency line. He sat up to projectile vomit. Like the exorcist. Everywhere.
"I barfed," is all he could say after it was over.
"Holy shit" is all I could say after seeing a waterfall shoot out of my son's body.
By the time I got him to his pediatrician that night things had not settled down. He had scratch marks all over his forehead from trying to claw out the pain by hand.
His pediatrician examined him for a total of 6 minutes. He confirmed it was in fact a migraine and asked him a few questions. Then he left the room and returned with a sheet of Pediatric Neurologists. "Make an appointment for him this week. Next week at the latest." I completely fainted in my mind but just nodded and said, yessir, in real life. Then, he told me to keep Grayson in the dark, no stimulation whatsoever, no lights, nothing...all quiet. He said the only relief will come when he could fall into a deep sleep after the migraine episode was over.
I picked all four feet of him up in my arms and carried him out to the car. He was still writhing and crying in pain. I shook my fist at the sky and cursed myself for letting him get so bad off.
He projectile vomited on the way home.
"What happened? Where are we going?" he asked me and then my own panic set in. I drove past the speed limit to get my baby home and in bed.
Finally, 8 hours AFTER the migraine started, Grayson fell into a deep sleep on our bed and didn't budge all night long. I know because I was staring at him all night. Pale green face and dark circles under his eyes. The whole thing was too intense.
He woke up the next morning happy, like we didn't just experience The Exorcist in our living room the night before.
Because I only work at the speed of Mach 3, I threw out every single piece of crap food in our house containing chemicals, preservatives, or dye. None of it belongs in my kids' developing bodies. None of it is going to poison my family any more. Frozen waffles? In the garbage. Pop Tarts? Deep sixed pronto.
Then we went to MOM's organic market and spent $120.00 on three bags of groceries.
"We have to figure out a better plan," was all Andy said to his crazy wife who thinks she is going to organic her way out of her son's pain.
So today, we are going to see one of those blessed pediatric neurologists to find out what is up. Please don't ask me what I had to do to get an appointment this week. The waitlist started in January. I will deny any and all accusations of Starbucks gift cards and sweet talking the receptionist.
The other important meeting is going on right now. Andy meets with the monitor who is the person in charge of our lives. Or at least where we live our lives after next summer. And no, despite how much fun it is to picture a four-legged creepy desert monitor with a long wippy tongue, it's just a dude in camouflage sitting at a desk. Nobody really ever wants that job, monitor. How awesome can it be to figure out exactly where 2352413498760946 Marines make the perfect fit elsewhere in the world?
Let's just say I'm glad I gave up the caffeine. Cause today would be a three pot kinda day. Please feel free to comment and tell me to calm the freak down. I will be obsessively checking FB, Twitter, and everything else in the waiting room while at the doctor's office. That is, if Abby isn't feeling salty. I love you guys. Thank you for being a friend. (P.S. I special love you, Otter. This card is coming with me today as my good luck charm. My treasure. xoxoxo)