A Doctor Visit

We took Gavin in to the clinic this morning for a quick visit. You see, a week ago, a small rash appeared on his chest - a few little red bumps. Then the next day, another bump appeared - this time on his forearm. It was pink and looked very sore - like a pimple at its worst. Then another appeared later that day. He continued to get 2-3 additional red, sore looking bumps each day, Mostly on his arm, shoulder, back, and chest, but a few random ones on his legs and hip and one on his face. At first we thought the rashy patch on his chest was a heat rash, then when more random bumps began to appear elsewhere, we thought perhaps chicken pox, but there was no fever, no itching, or any other symptoms. We decided we'd give them some time and see if it got worse or better or changed at all. Afterall, when you go to the doctor, they always ask how long it's been there, and if it has changed. We figured we'd wait until we had those answers before over reacting and bringing him in at the first sign of something a bit abnormal. Each spot seemed to be very sore looking for about 2-3 days and then sort of went away on it's own, leaving just a pinkish spot where it had been. Although the spots looked very irritated and sore, they never seemed to bother Gavin at all. Each spot came and went in a matter of a few days although more appeared each day.


We finally decided that after a week of this, it was time to check in with the doctor. He currently had nine bumps on the red and sore stage. We have an advantage when it comes to Gavin's doctor. She is also our good friend, and she graciously accepts our worried, late-night phone calls, offering friendly and reassuring advice whenever we need it. She's been a sanity saver. She was the first one we called when we found out we were pregnant and were worried that something might be wrong. She was the one I called when Gavin rolled off the bed at just a few months old and I was home alone with him, in a complete panic that he was going to have brain damage. She was the one we called when Gavin took a tumble down our hardwood stairs when we had accidentally left the gate open. Okay - I realize we sound like terrible, inattentive parents, but we're not, I promise.

Anyway, we called the doctor last night and explained the spots to her as well as we could, let her know how long they'd been there, etc. She suggested we bring him in just so she could see the spots herself and so that they could check his overall health. She squeezed us in before her first scheduled appointment of the day, which was wonderful! We prepped him a little on the way to the clinic. We told him we were going to see Dr. Rita at the clinic and that she was going to look at the spots on his belly. We told him he'd have to show her his belly (which he loves to do) even though most of the spots were on his arm & back. We told him that we would also see Brenda (her nurse). The whole way to the clinic, he said "Weeda" (Rita). Then he started saying "Docka Weeda" (Dr. Rita). It was pretty darn cute. When Brenda opened the door to the lobby and called his name, he said "Binda"! It was great! She said "Did he really just say my name?" How fun.

His weight was 28 1/2 lbs - normal. His temp was 97.8 - normal. He appeared to be fine except for those darn spots. When Rita came into the room, he said "Weeda" and he lifted his shirt up and showed her his "Bewwy". He's a little ham! Rita took a good look at his spots and believes them to be gnat bites. Apparently they often appear in clusters in areas where you're normally covered with clothing (a shirt) because they get inside your clothing and keep biting. She said we're lucky he doesn't react worse to the bites. Many people swell up quite a bit, including her 2-year old. While we were at the clinic, we got him up to date on his vaccinations too. He needed the Chicken Pox vaccine and the MMR (Measles, Mumps, Rubella), so now we should be all set. He did cry pretty hard and he did scream owie, but hopefully he won't get chicken pox! And perhaps some day I too will recover from his shots. I hate shots. I mean I hate it when he gets shots. It makes me cry. I don't mind getting them myself, but it isn't fair that he has to get them when he doesn't even understand why the two people he trusts most in this life are holding him down and causing him great pain.

Thank you Docka Weeda and Binda for your support.

Apparently, we need to get better about using the bug spray!