My grandson N was diagnosed with "failure to thrive." Now the thing about this diagnosis is that it's really not a diagnosis. It's a catch all term meaning he isn't growing at a normal rate. He hasn't put on any weight in almost a year.
I've known since he was 4 months old that something wasn't right because he just wouldn't eat or drink much of anything. He'd drink only enough formula so he wouldn't be starving but wouldn't eat until he was full. Odd. I told his mom I thought he had acid reflux.
His mom would bring him to the doctors and they would give her lectures on what she should be feeding N. She's 25 but she looks about 17. I think they were treating her like she was a kid who didn't know anything. Seriously, just look at N's older brother and it's clear to see that my daughter knows all about feeding a kid.
Four months ago they finally gave N a referral to see a pediatric GI doctor. I think they did it just to shut her up. N didn't see a doctor he saw a physician's assistant. Once again they pulled my daughter aside and discussed nutrition with her. She went back a month later; different PA same lecture. He hadn't put on anything. A month after that and still nothing. 2 different medications and N isn't getting any better. Finally last week my daughter called and asked how long N could go on not eating or drinking before she should take him to the hospital.
Suddenly, everyone is reviewing his chart and they decide that he needs to be scoped asap. Arrangements are made and N went in this morning so they could check out his throat and stomach. "In and out and we'll know what's going on by 9," the doctor said.
10:00 I get a call from my daughter. Complication. N aspirated fluid into his lungs. He's having trouble breathing and they will be keeping him overnight for observation. My parents are at her house (over an hour away) and my dad has a doctor's appointment of his own at 1. She can't get a hold of her husband and doesn't know what to do. She's upset, worried, and all alone at the hospital. DAMN IT!!!
I hop in the car with D2 and we drive up to take over watching the kids so my parents can leave. Son in law calls and we tell him what's going on. He's upset and worried and in the middle of it all his phone battery dies. He'll go to the hospital when he gets out of work. I decide to bring the kids home with me so that my daughter and son in law can concentrate on N without having to worry about W and A.
Crap! All the car seats are in my daughter's car. I drive to Walmart and purchase 2 car seats, diapers, wipes, and formula. Unpacked them in the parking lot, knocked down the boxes and threw them in the trunk, and then drove back to get the kids.
So I didn't sleep at all last night worrying about N and probably won't sleep much tonight worrying some more. Worrying is what I do well the older I get. And they still don't know why little Mr N isn't eating or drinking. No diagnosis at this point. They did a biopsy which should be back in 48 hr. I hate waiting. I'm afraid they'll find something. I'm afraid they won't.
So that's been my sucky Tuesday. If you could send some good karma my way I'd appreciate it.