When it rains, it pours.

Friday night I mention to my husband that my son's face looks weird, just an off-hand comment that maybe he's really tired or something.  Come Saturday morning I'm down here in my office.  He wakes up normal time, comes downstairs and immediately gets into a fight with his brother, status quo.  Well he ends up crying and comes running in here for Mommy and ... the right side of his face wasn't moving.  The left side was all scrunched up, crying like normal -- but the right side was a mask.

(Insert small nervous breakdown on Mommy's part.)

So I had an idea what this might be, but no freakin idea why.  There's a condition called Bell's Palsy, where one side of the face becomes paralyzed (in rare cases, the whole face).  It's actually inflammation of the 7th cranial nerve, which operates the facial muscles.  Usually tied to a virus like Mono, most people make a full recovery in about a month.  Most.  Start the phone calls.  I finally get the pediatrician on call who tells me to get him to the ER to make sure that's what's going on.

So I spend all Saturday afternoon at the hospital.  Bell's is rare in young children, so at first nobody was buying into it unless they saw it for themselves.  It can be a little frustrating, being on the receiving end of health care for a change.  Especially if they don't know you might have a clue of what you're talking about, or that you can understand what they're saying.  The doctor finally comes to see him and orders a CT scan.  I asked if they planned to sedate him, because that's a natural worry.  He says no, they'll try it without first.  I started laughing and he said, "Don't worry, I have one of my own."  I just looked at him and said, "Yes -- but do you call yours Satan?"

Needless to say a half hour and one toddler having a nervous breakdown later, we're back in the room.  The doctor comes back in and looks at me and I said, "Knock him out."  This process was reminiscent of Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom.  "While I stay safe on the  high savannah, my partner Jim will go in and dart the very angry little rhino."  Eventually one stressed Mommy and three nurses later they got the shot in his leg.  As soon as he was out they literally ran him over to the CT scanner, because the sedative was short acting.  Then came the waiting.

So I sat in the rocking chair, watching my sleeping son and playing through every worst case scenario.  If it's not Bell's, the thought of what was paralyzing his face terrified me.  If it wasn't a lurking brain injury (he's got a huge nugget and bumps all the time), then in toddlers with wierd presentations it usually means one thing -- a mass.  I swear I was my own worst enemy.  My husband got to the hospital right before they came and said the CT was completely negative.  Note to self: buy more candles to burn in thanksgiving.

The only thing left is to figure out what might be causing this, and whether or not it will go away.  The most likely suspect is Lyme's Disease.  My research even says that Bell's is actually a common presentation in children who have it lurking in their system and we're loaded with it out here.  They drew a titre, but I have to wait a couple of days for the result.  That and a follow up with a pediatric neurologist, not always an easy specialist to find.  The ER doctor did consult with one on the phone, who said she'd see him on Thursday.  She was supposed to call me today to set it up.

Of course by this afternoon the phone hadn't rung.  So I decided to start calling, because of my insurance.  Wouldn't you know it, her group doesn't take my insurance.  And his doctor's on vacation till the 13th.  The office lady tells me now I have to call a hospital in Philly (2 hours away) and get one of them to see him.  They have an office about an hour away from me, but they're only at that one a couple of times a month.  So first I call the original neurologist's office, they were very nice but couldn't help much.  Then I call this other group.  I explain what's going on and that my son needs a consultation and follow-up.  "We're not taking new patients until December, we can see him then."  I reply, "But that doesn't help me, my son's face is paralyzed now."  No luck, "Sorry, no new patients till December." (click)

So in between bouts of crying, I'm on the phone with the pediatrician's office and the insurance company, while frantically combing the internet.  I finally find a group an hour away in the other direction, in NJ.  Of course nobody answers the phone.  She finally calls me back at 10 to 5 and I go through the whole story again, sniffling.  They agreed to see him tomorrow afternoon (hooray!).  Then it was the last minute call to the office before closing to get the damn visits approved.  Four hours after the saga begins I have an approved appointment for my son.  I hate healthcare.

It doesn't seem to be bothering him, though he touches his face now and again.  His right eye gets irritated and tears a bit, but that's because he's not blinking as often on that side.  At least it isn't drooping, because then he'd need a patch to protect his eye and gods only know how I'd manage that with him.  But every time he laughs or talks his face just twists up to the left and I want to burst into tears, my beautiful little boy's face. :(

I really don't know how much more I can take.  Though then again it's not like I have much of a choice.