i've told everybody else, how about the internets, too

How many times in one day can you say, "My grandfather died of an allergic reaction to penicillin!?" Because it feels like I said it to every one I talked to today, most of them being medical personnel. And my husband. Who claims I told him the above at least five times if not more.

I noticed on Tuesday, after Kathryn started her antibiotic, that she had developed a slight rash on her neck. I didn't think much of it until I noticed it was spreading. Then I freaked out. See above. MY GRANDFATHER DIED OF AN ALLERGIC REACTION TO PENICILLIN. The internets did nothing to alleviate my fears. According to numerous sites, if you're allergic to penicillin, there's a good chance you could have a reaction to the medication Kathryn is taking.

I started calling people. I called my dad first because obviously, he's going to be able to tell me what kind of symptoms my grandfather had. And he had the most obvious reaction. A rash. So I decide maybe it's best to call the doctor. I leave a message for the nurse and when she calls me back she says, nah, I doubt it's being caused by the medication. Ok, good. I relay this to my father and he insists that I call back and make an appointment for the doctor to see Kathryn, just in case. Which is a good idea, with the family history and all. And honestly, after I talked to the nurse, I was still paranoid about the whole situation. A little voice in the back of my head kept telling me, better safe than sorry.

As it turns out I was just being an overly cautious parent. The pediatrician told me he was 99.9% positive that the rash was being caused by whatever malicious bug is terrorizing Kathryn's body. Usually at this point I would have felt like a dumbass, but Kathryn's doctor reassured me that it was good that I brought her in to be checked. And to keep an eye on her because if she starts to swell or the rash gets itchy, there's a 0.1% chance that it is indeed an allergic reaction.

This is good news. What is not good news - I believe Kathryn is trying to cut her next tooth. A sick, teething baby is a miserable baby. Thank God it's almost the weekend. I think I'm going to pawn her off on her father and flee to the Bahamas. What is it we used to say in college when we just wanted to get away from it all? Sandy beaches, calm waters. This is the how do you say it...ah yes...I Need a Vacation Show. Thank you Antonio Banderas.

Yeah, don't ask. Just a random bit of nostalgia to end the blog post for the evening.