Monday, July 25, 2011
The Silent Invader
On July 7, we had just returned from dollar bowling and were getting ready for bed when Rebekah, seventeen, showed me a bump near her thumb, just above her wrist.
"Look," she said. "Something bit me."
I looked, but couldn't identify the offender. It sort of resembled a mosquito bite. I doubted a wasp could have nailed without her knowing.
"And it itches."
I yawned and shut off the computer. "Put some CORTAID on it and go to bed. That should take care of it."
The next morning, Rebekah again showed me the bite. It was raised, red, and hard, about a quarter-size around the original bump. A fine, thin line was moving from the site across the back of Rebekah's hand. I called our doctor and asked Timothy, twenty, to run her in. I had to take my husband in the opposite direction to another procedure.
A couple of hours later, Timothy called back. The nurse practitioner that saw Rebekah had hesitated at prescribing an antibiotic, but Timothy, per my instructions, had insisted, just in case. Should he fill the Bacrtim?
"Yes," I said. "Get that first dose in her."
After I settled Ron back at home, I met the kids at the distribution center to help stuff inserts. Because we had such a late start, we were worked until ten o'clock that night. In the meantime, despite the Bactrim, Rebekah's redness slowly traveled away from the original site. The time came for Dose Two. We gave it to her. With a pen, I lightly marked the edges of the wound.
"If the redness moves past it," I said, "I'm taking her to the ER."
But the red stayed confined to its area. The next morning, the swelling had substantially decreased, and the red was fading to pink. We had won.
Or so we thought.
The Bactrim made Rebekah so nauseous, she had difficulty keeping it down. Worse, she had saved up for a four-day cooking class at Joliet Junior College for the following week. By day Tuesday, Rebekah was vomiting. I called the doctor's office and left a message.
"Stop the Bactrim," came the decree from the pipeline.
"She still has more to go," I said. "Should she have different antibiotic?"
"Is it still red?" the voice on the other end asked.
"Not at all," I replied. "It was gone by Day Two."
"Then she's fine. Let us know if it comes back."
It did, late Sunday morning, just before Divine Liturgy began. I had a sore throat, body aches, etc., and had fallen asleep in my desk chair when Rebekeh woke me up to inform me that Fr. Joseph had arrived and was beginning Proskimedia prayers.
"Look," she said, holding out her arm.
The bump was back.
"What the...." I sat upright and pulled her arm closer, shaking my head and examining the silent predator. "I don't like this. If it gets red, we're taking you into Quick Care."
By the end of services, the bump was not only red, a pink line was streaking across the back of her hand. The doctor at Quick Care gave Rebekah a prescription for Keflex and instructions to return if it grew worse.
"This time," he said, "finish the antibiotic. If it makes you sick, we'll switch it. You should have finished the course the last time."
That's what we had thought, too, but that's hindsight.
Rebekah obediently swalled Dose One of Keflex, applied hot compresses in an attempt to localize the infection, but waves of pink pushed away from its home and headed for her wrist. She took Dose Two at eight o'clock that night, and we drove to the emergency department.
There, a doctor lanced the wound, surprised at the scant amounts of pus it produced, and added clindamycin, with instructions to return if it looked worse. We tumbled into bed at nearly midnight (We had to first deal with an electrical problem at home, oh joy!) and set the alarm at two-thirty for Keflex Dose Three. We had to be on the road with newspapers at four a.m.
When the appointed time arrived, my oldest son Christopher yelled up the stairs. He had found us a sub and paid for it, too!!! Yes, months of colic was well worth it. I fed the cats and fell back asleep.
That brings us to this morning. The redness has now reached her fingers. I have two interviews; Rebekah has a much-anticipated swim lesson. Dose Four of Keflex is in her system, as well as Dose Two of the clindamycin. After her lesson, I'll recheck the wound. If it's still moving, back to the ER we go.
So, what does this have to do with vampires?
Bryony's lead vampire, as a proper vampire, does not reveal himself at once. For weeks, he slithers around Melissa's world, dropping only the merest hints of his presence. Once he's in, even after it appears he has left, he's in with a Herculean grasp on Melissa's heart and psyche.
But you already knew that, didn't you. Else, why have an entire series?
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