Just because I had to open my big fat mouth to proclaim how well my daughter was progressing a bump got thrown in her road. Although I thought she was getting infections, according to the verdict of her surgeon, she's not. She's highly allergic to the adhesive they placed on her legs to hold down the steri-strips and bandages.
Out of the blue last night the area surrounding her wounds took on a nasty red, blistery look. I whipped out my "ghost thermometer" (everyone has one of those, don't they?) and measured the heat to be 10 degrees hotter near the wounds than the rest of her body, although she herself was not running a fever.
I whipped out my digital camera (I promised her I would not post pictures of the area) and first thing this morning sent them to C'Ville along with a begging request to supply some antibiotics. After going back and forth with the team it was decided they would not issue any and recommended I give her Benadryl. Instead I am left with the task of trying to remove this mysterious adhesive that I can't even see. The worst part is they want me to remove the actual steri-strips. They weren't supposed to come off for another five days.
The girl is in panic mode and won't let me near them. The surgeon insists there are stitches inside her and we won't screw up the wounds, "even if it bleeds some more." I scoured the Roanoke valley for some sort of adhesive remover that won't hurt her wound but have been unable to find anything. Instead I have to go with alcohol wipes, gentle tugs and heavy prayer. All the materials are laid out just waiting for daddy to come home to do this.
Nothing ever goes easy, does it?