And There's Your Sign

It was the end of April and we were on our weekly shopping trip. There, in the Wal-Mart (don't judge me, I'm feeding five kids) dairy case I noticed a yogurt (plus fruit and cereal) six-pack emblazoned with cherubic, smiling toddlers, their arms outstretched to embrace floating clusters of fruity goodness. Ever the discerning consumer I thought, "I have a baby! He smiles! He reaches out for things! This yogurt was meant for him!" I even did a quick check of the ingredients to make sure that there wasn't something that might possibly turn Pete into a swollen, itchy mess. Organic milk, organic fruit, blah, blah, blah. Nothing to fear here.

So that evening, we opened up a container of strawberry-banana and Sug and I began spooning the stuff into Pete's mouth. He took the first few bites without incident, but then began to avert his mouth and squirm. Experienced as we are with this parenting thing, surely we could cajole him into taking a few more bites.

"I think he's starting to get a rash around his mouth." said JC, our eleven year old.
"Nonsense," we assured him.

But there was a rash. And it got worse and worse and worse.

Remembering that the pediatrician had asked whether I had administered Benadryl with Pete's first reaction, I promptly gave him a quarter teaspoon and a bath. Sug consulted Dr. Google to research what ingredient could have caused the rash and we debated about whether to take him to our pediatrician's after-hours clinic.

And then Pete lost consciousness.

It took us a few beats to recognize this for what it was. At first, we actually thought that he had fallen asleep. A warm bath and some Benadryl will do that. But we couldn't rouse him and Sug, a Behavior Specialist at a local hospital for children and adolescents, noted that Pete's extremities had turned white - a sign of shock.

Sug and I decided that JC and I would take Pete to the Convenient Care clinic while he stayed at home with the other kids. As I buckled Pete into his carseat, he regained conciousness and began to vomit all over himself. By the time we reached the office, around three minutes later, the vomit, which had soaked into his clothing, had caused him to break out in such terrible hives that he appeared to have blisters all over his body.

Fortunately, our pediatrician was the doc on call, and with the administration of some more Benadryl (a baby his size could take three times the dose we gave him) she sent us home to give him another bath (he continued to vomit throughout the consultation) and return within the half hour.

Upon our return, and after assuring us that Pete was stable, Dr. C presented the option of taking him to the emergency room. The worst of the anaphylaxis was over, she said, and the Benadryl would help to quell the reaction inside his body. While the prolonged vomiting had expelled most of the "trigger food" from his body, a certain amount of it was still going to travel through his digestive system. It was unlikely that he would have another reaction as severe as the first. I was paralyzed and totally overwhelmed; I couldn't make that call for fear of the consequences of a wrong choice. I made a tearful call home to Sug and we decided that, the worst being over, we would monitor Pete through the night. Dr. C advised us, should he have a reaction like this again, to forgo "bravery" and take Pete to the emergency room. Brave, my ass - more like ignorant.

If, at the time, we had understood that Pete was having a severe and life-threatening allergic reaction, we most certainly would have taken him to the hospital. We knew of anaphylaxis, we just never expected it to come for dinner.