Last week on Thursday when I picked Tate up from daycare one of the nursery workers told me she noticed Tate had a blister on his toe and therefore was letting him go barefoot.
"Ok," I thought, "I go with that. I'll just keep an eye on it." And that's just what I did. I proceeded on to the gym. After my workout I looked at it. It seems alright, maybe a fraction bigger. I dismissed it though, thinking I was over analyzing this little blister (or was it a bug bite?).
We continued on, making a stop at Sam's to buy a few essentials, you know OJ, cat food, etc. By then it was time for dinner. So, Chuck, Tate and I headed to El Chico (our Thursday night ritual). After dinner I looked at it and had the same thoughts: "is it a tad bit bigger? No, you're being a worry wort. No one likes a hypocondric mom." So we continued on with our evening. Finally at home it was time for some serious playing before time for bed.
At bedtime we were going through our usual routine. Potty, night time diaper and PJs. It was then that we looked at the toe again. This time there was a marked change. His toe was dramatically swollen and had turned red. Chuck and I agreed almost instantly that we should seek immediate medical attention.
We grabbed a juice cup, Scooped Tate up and rushed out the door destination NEA Baptist ER.
Tate's condition didn't slow him down. He wanted to run around and play. However, Chuck and I were not letting him down. After all he was still barefooted. Finally we were taken to an ER exam room. There, Tate promptly began shredding the paper over the exam chair as he climbed it. Later he discovered a small television on an arm that swiveled, raised and lowered (much like the light used at the dentist office). Eventually the doctor came in, looked at the big, nasty toe, which had ruptured and drained in the time we were waiting to see the doctor.
The doctor said it looked like a big bite that Tate likely scratched and eventually became infected. We were given a prescription for a broadspectrum anitbiotic and instructed to follow up with Tate's doctor in 2-3 days.
Right around midnight we were finally released. Once in the car, Tate almost immediately crashed.
My thoughts on this ordeal are this.
1. We are so lucky that it took over 2 years for this first trip to the ER to happen.
2. Tate's demeanor was such that it kept me from worrying excessively. It's so hard to get upset when you see this sweet little blue-eyed boy flash his electric smile as he climbs up the chair in the exam room (frustrated, yes; scared, no).
At the follow-up doctor's appt Tate was given a clean bill of health. And, I am happy to report that Tate is running around like crazy, having a blast and making friends where ever he goes... as usual.
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