Our whole crew has been a picture of physical health since Covid-19 became what its become, thanks to seeing next to no one for months on end. But as I mentioned a few days ago, Waverly came down with a crazy rash about a week or so ago. After a call with her doctor and some pictures being sent via email, she prescribed a steroid cream for the bad spots and we figured we’d just ride it out.
The thing was, though, that Wavy wasn’t getting better. She was, in some ways. I guess. Her belly rash went down. Some of the fluid-filled spots on her legs seemed to drain and scab over. Some of the bizarre markings on her hands lightened a little. But our little Miss was miserable. Being the chatty little communicator that she is, she would approach us, half hopping on one foot, scratching the other, exclaiming “Itchy. Ouch. Bandaid. Foot. Lotion. Help please.” We were only “supposed” to use the steroid cream on her hands and feet once or twice per day, and despite her being on Benadryl consistently for days, it just wasn’t keeping up. That, and other spots were forming. Weird looking, leopard-print-ish spots. So I called and booked an in-person visit for her. And that happened Tuesday morning.
It was pretty bizarre being in there, honestly. I called the “clinic cell phone” to check us in so they could ask the Covid screening questions. Our appointment was close enough that we were welcome to come wait in the waiting room. We were first stopped a table and asked the screening questions again. We both had our temperatures taken, were given hand sanitizer, and I was asked to wear a mask. We waited in a very spare, quiet waiting room.
I knew it was all pretty strange for Waverly, but she was so brave. I nuzzled her a bunch with my mask and made it fun for her. I would try and kiss her through it, and she would giggle and giggle when the paper mask would tickler her. She did great.
When we did finally make it into an exam room, we sang and played and she inquired over and over about my mask. “I want one,” she’d say, and then she’d grab my nose and try to pull it off. It was cute.
Dr. Guselle finally surfaced, in scrubs and a mask, and she was nothing but light and airy and friendly, as always. We chatted a lot about Waverly’s ever-changing rash, and Wavy cooperated beautifully as I lifted limbs here and there, slipped her out of her clothes, and then held her hands so she couldn’t scratch at herself. Dr. Guselle agreed that her tummy rash was WAY better than the pictures I had sent her a few days prior. She was curious about her hands and feet, though, as they look quite different, and weren’t clearing up as quickly as they should. The priority was Wavy’s comfort, because she has none. She is SO clearly asking for help, and Dr. Guselle agreed that we need to help her with that. Its very likely a simple viral rash, but the way that the Benadryl and steroid creams are juuust keeping her comfort at bay suggests she could be fighting something else on the inside. Her ears looked fine. No obvious infections to be seen.
*sigh*
So we talked Covid. The chance that she had Covid was next to nothing, and none of her symptoms are standard Covid symptoms. Nothing respiratory whatsoever. But her rash didn’t look like anything else I’d ever seen, or that she had ever seen. Not in her derm book either. And realistically, the more they can know the better! If, hypothetically, she did have Covid, that odd rash could’ve been a new symptom to watch for. I consented to Waverly being tested for Covid. Dr. Guselle mournfully reminisced about the time she swabbed Dekker’s nose and it bled. I couldn’t believe that she remembered that event so many years ago, but she said it had NEVER happened to her before, and was somewhat traumatizing. Lol! Maybe for her! We recovered!
Dr. Guselle stepped out to grab her stethoscope, and asked if I was ok if she quickly ran in and measured a pregnant belly before she swabbed for Covid. That made sense to me. While she was away, I told Waverly what we were going to do next, and you can say a two year old doesn’t understand that much, but she is SO smart and responded the whole time.
Dr. Guselle is going to listen to your back and your tummy.
Ok.
And then she’s going to look in your mouth. Can you open your mouth for me?
Ya. (opens mouth)
Good girl! Will you do that for her, too?
Ya.
Great! And then, you’re going to have to lay down and she’s going to put something in your nose. Do you understand? You won’t like it, but it will be fast. Ok?
Ok, mommy.
I could only hope she was understanding me. We practiced opening our mouths when asked, and sticking out our tongues. We played in the mirror, and she tried to take my mask again. It was cute.
It finally came time, and Dr. Guselle and I were both truly amazed at Waverly. She cooperated with the stethoscope and didn’t try to pull it off or get away. Then she lay down and opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue. Dr. Guselle was wide eyed, and praised her up. Wavy tried to get up after that and I reminded her that she’d need to stay laying down for the test in her nose. She lay down and let me hold her hands up above her head. Dr Guselle cringed and said “Wavy, don’t look at me like that!” and then she went for it.
Wavy flinched and grunted as the swab went in, and then just watched Dr Guselle intently as she stuck it aaaaall the way back and poked her throat. She coughed. And then it was over.
The three of us in the exam room – 😳😳😳
She didn’t even cry. Dr Guselle was completely dumbfounded. She gushed that this had been the easiest Covid swab she had performed ever, kids and adults alike. I gave Waverly a huge hug, and she was immediately ok. Bizarre. I visited with Dr Guselle while I got Wavy dressed, and she was all smiles, telling Dr Guselle every article of clothing we were putting on. Pants! Shirt! Socks! Shoes! She was happy! It seemed crazy!
We finished our appointment up with me bragging about my toddlers accomplishments, knowledge, development, etc. I made a crack about another one of my kids and Dr. Guselle laughed so hard that her mask sucked into her mouth and she slapped her knees. It was like old times. But, with masks, and weirdness. Finally, she typed up a prescription for something to help with Wavy’s discomfort and sent us on our way! We were told we’d find out our test results in 24 hours.
It took two days, but we finally got our confirmation this afternoon that Waverly does NOT have Covid!!! Lol! It feels silly celebrating, because I knew she didn’t, but having it confirmed felt pretty good to me 🙂 Also, the medication Wavy is taking has lifted her itch, and her rash is lifting! Whew! Hopefully this ridiculous thing is behind us soon! I want my lighthearted little weirdo back!