going to the doctor

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Getting Acupuncture (for Plantar Fasciitis)

One of my friends who also suffered from plantar fasciitis recommended acupuncture; she sees an acupuncturist for a lot of things, but one of them was plantar fasciitis and acupuncture is what she attributes to curing her plantar fasciitis. And wow, Lee is so right; we really need a cute nickname for plantar fasciitis because it is a pain to have, to say, and to write. P-Fasch? 

So far, I have had acupuncture five times. Here is my story. (*Law & Order noise*)

Before the Appointment:

The first time I went, I had a few suggestions from my friend which I found very useful.

  1. Wear sweats.
  2. Wear jogging shorts under the sweats.
  3. Always say yes to the heat lamp. 

The person who performs my acupuncture is an ND, a doctor of naturopathy. She works for my husband’s health system, so she is in-network for my insurance. Before I made an appointment, I checked whether our insurance covered the appointments and it sounded like they would not. The first appointment would be $175 and subsequent visits would be $100. Since we have an HSA, and since I would do pretty much anything to get rid of my p-fasch, nope, that is ridiculous plantar fasciitis, my husband and I agreed that I would try it out anyway. (It turns out that my insurance does cover a portion of it, which is fabulous but also makes me roll my eyes because health insurance is SO obtuse; thank goodness we can afford it either way, but SHEESH. If only it were easy to figure out information that would help me make health decisions!)

Prior to my appointment, I had to fill out a huge packet of information. Some of it was the type of data that most doctors collect – basic demographic information, medications, allergies, medical history (mine and my family’s), details about why I wanted to be seen. Some of it was more unusual, like the question, “What would make today’s appointment successful?” which I had no idea how to answer. 

There was also this very interesting sheet that had me detail exactly what was going on. I especially liked all the different options under “Describe nature of pain.” I was a little mystified by some of the questions under “Women Only” (and hope that this hospital system is moving toward updating their forms to be less gendered), but trust that the answers are meaningful to my doctor.

The First Appointment:

The room where the acupuncture took place was a cross between a room at a spa and a generic doctor’s office exam room. It was small and had your typical doctor’s office exam table, but there was gentle spa music playing over a speaker. 

I sat on a chair and the doctor asked me some questions about why I was there. She wanted to know what other treatments I had explored. She wanted to know with great detail and exactness what the pain was like and where it was located. I both appreciated how thorough she was and felt flustered because I wasn’t sure I was describing it correctly. She had me remove my shoes and socks and show her exactly where the pain was located on my feet.

She asked me if I had ever tried acupuncture before, and I said no, and she asked if I wanted a brief overview of acupuncture and I said yes. 

She referred to a large poster hanging on the wall and said that the body has all these channels, or meridians, that travel from one end to the other. By stimulating certain areas of the body, you can affect other, related areas. She showed me the needles, which were much much smaller and thinner than I had anticipated. She asked if I had any questions, and I can’t remember if I did or not. 

I really, really would not want to be the person whose needs resulted in a needle between the testicles and anus.

She told me that she recommended six sessions for plantar fasciitis; I did not ask if that was for plantar fasciitis in general, or just my case. She said it was very important to have them back to back; I can’t remember why, but it may be that the effect is cumulative.

Then she told me remove my pants and get on the exam table. She left the room. I was very glad that I had followed my friend’s advice to wear running shorts. The table was covered with a generic sheet of exam table paper, but she had put a cylindrical pillow on the table as well as a sheet folded in half lengthwise. I lay down and put the sheet over my bottom half, but it barely covered the shorts region, so I was doubly glad I was wearing them. 

She came back into the room and had me remove my watch and glasses. Then she asked me to relax my legs over the cushion in the center of the table while lying flat on my back. This hurt my lower back, so I asked if she could provide another pillow and she did; I was glad I asked because I had to lie in that position for nearly an hour and my back would not have liked that. 

I was extremely anxious: this was a new situation and I didn’t know what to expect. She either noticed or I volunteered that information and she asked if I wanted something to help relieve that anxiety. I said sure, and she retrieved a small bottle of something from a drawer and sprayed it under my tongue. I don’t know if it helped, but it was interesting. 

She felt my pulses (she said it that way: pulses) on both wrists. She had me pull down my mask and stick out my tongue. I did it wrong and so she demonstrated how I should do it: let my jaw fall open and my tongue fall out in a relaxed way. She looked under my tongue as well. I wanted to ask her what it was telling her, but I chickened out. She asked if I had eaten breakfast. I hadn’t, because I don’t usually eat breakfast that early (it was 9:00 am); in reviewing the information packet for this post, I see that there is a recommendation to eat before you come. Whoops. 

She started with my feet and inserted several needles in each foot. I think I tried to ask, at first, why she was putting needles in certain places but her answers were not satisfying so I stopped asking. She wasn’t mean about it or anything, it just seemed like the informative portion of the appointment was over and now she was focused on placing the needles. I did not want to distract her when she was inserting needles into my body, I’m sure you understand.

She also put a couple of needles in my knees and then a few in my hands, specifically in my thumbs. Those ones hurt the most. The meaty part of my left thumb burned slightly for almost the entire appointment and then it felt sore for several hours afterward. She put another needle in my scalp. 

When she inserted them, the most typical sensation was a brief spark of pain that immediately subsided. She would flick the needle gently after inserting it, which was very briefly uncomfortable but not painful. There are a few places – my thumbs and the top of my left foot – that are more sharply painful, and for which the pain lasts a few seconds. I have not had any long-lasting pain like I did that first time with my thumb.

She asked if I wanted the heat lamp and I said yes. She positioned it above my feet. Then she dimmed the lights and left. 

My friend says that it’s best if you fall asleep, and I can see why. I am very good at entertaining myself and allowing my thoughts to freewheel around my head, and yet I had a hard time lying there for 40 minutes with nothing but the spa music and my throbbing thumb for company.

After the allotted time, the doctor returned to the room. She turned up the lights and removed the needles (in the same order in which she inserted them). Removing them caused only very slight discomfort. 

Then she told me to drink lots of room temperature water and the appointment was over.

This ear image is really tripping me out.

Subsequent Visits:

I tried to schedule back-to-back appointments with her, but it wasn’t possible. So what I did was skip three weeks and then start again with six back-to-back appointments. Since it had been awhile since our first visit, she took my pulses and looked at my tongue again during my second visit; she hasn’t done that on subsequent visits. She also asked me whether I still get a period and where I was in my cycle, which she hadn’t asked the first time. 

During the second appointment, she put in fewer needles than she had the first time. For instance, she only put needles in my left hand. I said something like, “Only one hand this time?” and she said, “Do you want me to do your right hand?” and I said, “I just noticed that it was different from last time.” “With you, less is more,” she told me. (However, after more visits, it seems like she simply makes decisions the day of the appointment for where to place the needles, and how many. I have had more and less, and they are not always in the same places.)

During the second appointment, she recommended that I soak my feet. She told me to use Epsom salt, rosemary oil, and eucalyptus oil in water that was not boiling but more than hot for twenty minutes each morning. 

Before I left, she also inserted two little acupressure points in my right ear. They were like stickers with tiny hard bumps on them. She said I could apply pressure to them which could help ease the pain in my heel. She said it helps some people but not others; I liked that she was open about the possibility it might not work but that she also gave it a try. The one in the top part of my ear – right under the very top crest of the ear – hurt a lot, and was so sore that I took it off two days later. The one in the bottom part of my ear – just inside the ridge of cartilage that lies atop the earlobe – did not hurt, but came out on its own after about four days. I did not experience any benefit from the acupressure. 

During the third appointment, she inserted needles once again into both hands. I did not ask why; I care, but also… I am just going with the flow. During that appointment she also inserted two needles into each of my ears. I KNOW. It was odd but not terribly painful. Nowhere near as painful as the needle insertion in my left hand. I said something like, “Wow, that hand always hurts so much.” And she gave me a knowing look and said, “That’s because it’s connected to your right foot.” I am not 100% sure what that meant, although my right foot is the one that has the most pain, so perhaps that has something to do with it. I should probably ask more questions, but I’m not sure what questions to ask and I’m too nervous about bothering her.

Going back to the second appointment: At one point, I apologized for being so sweaty. She asked if I was anxious, and I said I didn’t think so; it’s just that my feet were sweaty and I was embarrassed. She stepped back for a moment and said, “You have nothing to be embarrassed about! You should see some of the feet I see!” Then she told me what was meant to be a very comforting story about how some people come in with filthy feet, and how clearly I had cleaned my feet before I’d come in, and had nothing to be embarrassed about. (I had NOT cleaned my feet; I mean, they were clean because I had showered, but they could have had sock lint all over them for all I knew.) I think I prefer if doctors (as well as aestheticians of all kinds) participate in the polite fiction that they have seen everything and it is all normal and nothing bothers them. 

Also, since I was so sweaty, I declined the heat lamp for my second appointment. This was a mistake! Always request the heat lamp!

Something else you should always do? Turn off any alarms you may have set, because you won’t have your phone or your watch and you will be unable to get off the table to do anything about it and Siri doesn’t hear so well when she is buried in your coat pocket on a chair five feet from the exam table. Ask me how I know this.

By the third appointment, I was relaxed enough that I nearly drifted off to sleep. 

During the fourth visit, the needle insertion HURT, especially in my right foot, my left hand, and my ears. I could feel my heel doing this long slow blink of soreness through the entire session, and my left thumb was sore for about an hour afterward. Plus, my feet were twitching during the session which was unusual. (I chickened out and didn’t mention it to the acupuncturist at the end; she seemed a little rushed.) During this session, she put needles in both ears, on the crown of my head, and between my eyebrows. The eyebrows one hurt the least. I did mention that I seemed to be extra sensitive and the doctor suggested it might have something to do with where I was in my menstrual cycle. She didn’t seem perturbed, so I tried not to let it bother me.

The fifth visit was this morning. It was unremarkable, and again I felt relaxed enough that I almost fell asleep. Well, it was unremarkable except for this: I have been having upper back pain, probably because I did a Pilates move horribly wrong. The pain travels down my right arm and into my hand, so it’s not super. I can only lie flat on my back while in bed, and sitting, and especially driving, are very uncomfortable. So I tentatively said that maybe I should make another appointment for this, but I had been having back pain and was that something she could address? She asked a few questions and added a few extra needles to my body. She did so by first pressing on my legs in different areas and asked me to identify the most sensitive/painful points, and then she put the needles there. She did the same thing with the shoulder on the side of my back that hurts. She also asked to look at my tongue again. I still haven’t gotten up the nerve to ask her what she is looking for when she looks at my tongue. I suppose I should look it up.

Results So Far:

Keep in mind that I am only in the middle of the recommended six sessions. (I am not counting the first session in the six, since there was a several week interruption between the first and the second.) Also, at my most recent session, the doctor suggested I make an additional two or three appointments, so it seems like I am really only halfway through.

Is acupuncture addressing my plantar fasciitis? I don’t know. A family member who has undergone acupuncture treatment for a different issue says that she thinks I would have seen improvement immediately, and that wasn’t the case. However, the doctor said it would take at least six sessions, so maybe there is a cumulative effect when it comes to my specific issue? I don’t know. I am tackling the problem from a variety of angles, so it’s hard to say whether acupuncture is helping or not. But I will say that I have noticed a real improvement in my level of pain. It’s not perfect: my feet are still stiff and painful most mornings when I wake up, and anytime I am sitting for long periods (like reading a book or watching a TV show), and some days I still limp around. But my right foot hurts a lot less, in general, that it did previously. Sometimes, my left foot doesn’t hurt at all. And there have been two or three times when I have gotten up – from bed, or from sitting – and my feet have felt entirely normal. One recent Saturday, I had almost no pain the entire day. (This was so remarkable, I kept mentioning it to my husband, who was not as elated as I thought he should be.) And as the weeks go by, I seem to have less and less pain overall. It’s very encouraging! So if acupuncture is part of a multi-pronged approach that seems to be working, even if slowly and incompletely, then I am going to continue doing it. 

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Podiatry Talk

In highly exciting news, I have recently had occasion to visit a podiatrist for the first time. 

Relatedly, I want to talk about my foot. The thought of doing so bores me almost to tears, so I feel deep empathy for YOU, whose foot it is not. The thing is, it has been causing me enormous grief for months now and I better just talk about it and get it over with. 

Sometime in December of 2021, I started having heel pain when I woke up. It would be worst when I first got out of bed, then would gradually subside throughout the day. My runner friend told me it sounded like plantar fasciitis, which is a term with vowels that look incorrect even when I know they’re in the right places. I looked up plantar fasciitis and found some stretching exercises to do; I did them; they seemed to work. 

But then after maybe a week or so, the exercises stopped being effective. And the pain got worse and worse, so that any time I sat down (and as a person who writes for most of the day, I sit a LOT) and then tried to stand, I would hobble around with serious pain. It started waking me up in the night. It started affecting my ability to drive (I would get sharp shooting pains in my arch when I pushed on the gas or the brake). It made it difficult/painful for me to do my preferred type of exercise (walking). 

I went to a podiatrist, who seems very knowledgeable and who came highly recommended. But it seemed to me that the podiatrist relies a little too heavily on ME and not heavily enough on measurable facts. I suppose that’s how most of medicine is, isn’t it. If I say I have sinus pain and I’m miserable, and the doctor presses on my forehead and under my cheekbones and asks if it hurts, she has to take my word for it that it does. A gastroenterologist has to rely on your report of stomach/intestinal pain. But I hate that. I do. I want to be able to go to a doctor and say, “I am in pain” and for them to be able to VERIFY that, scientifically. I want them to have calipers that measure the pain so they can nod and say, “Yes, I see, this is clearly a Level 5 pain.” rather than making me the sole reporter of painfulness. For one thing, I feel like I have a low threshold for pain, so that what might be excruciating for me would be just a little twinge for you. And I don’t want to overreact to pain, or come across in any way like I am overexaggerating. I want it to be quantifiable. It’s NOT, but oh well. 

The podiatrist did press on my foot to see if I reacted, which I did. And he used an ultrasound machine to check… something. I’m not sure, but he did measure something and record those measurements. (He also took an X-ray, to ensure I didn’t have any fractures or cancer.) (Brief digression: I have been having pain in both feet, but one is much more severe than the other. When I checked in, I explained this. The receptionist said she would send me for an X-ray right away, and did I want X-rays of both feet or one? Um. I don’t know? I feel like that is not the kind of decision I, the non-doctor, am qualified to make? I did say that I would do whatever the doctor recommended, and the receptionist said, “It’s really up to you.” So I told her we could focus on just the one because the pain in the other foot is – currently – livable. But then the whole time I was getting my foot X-rayed I was feeling panicky that I had made the wrong choice, and what if I needed to come BACK in a few months and do it all again, and pay extra to get the other foot X-rayed when I could have gotten it all done at once? I had to use some coping thoughts like, “less radiation NOW is better, when I may not ever need a X-ray for the other foot.” And, “I made the best choice I could in the moment, and there is nothing I can do now.” And, “maybe it would end up costing the same anyway; I don’t know if they charge per foot or per visit, so who knows.” And, “I am fortunate to have health insurance and a health savings account, and this is what those things are for.” I had a good hearty wait before the X-ray technician was ready for me, so I got a chance to repeat these coping thoughts several times. (And panickedly wonder whether I could ask the X-ray tech to do both feet, or ask if I could call up to the doctor and alter the order.) It turned out okay, and if I need another X-ray of the other foot at some time in the future, so be it. But I really wish that the DOCTOR would have said, “Well, I really think that we should focus on the one foot that’s causing you the most trouble.” Or “Well, this thing can develop quickly so if you are having even a little trouble, let’s treat the other foot too.”) 

This is a very complainy post about my podiatrist, when really he seemed very nice. I guess I just get very anxious about doctors’ visits. I don’t want to waste the doctor’s time, I don’t want to overestimate the problem, or make A Big Deal when it’s not a big deal, I don’t want to spend a lot of health savings account money when I could really just be at home icing my foot, you know? 

Anyway. After the podiatrist evaluated my foot, he gave me a little mini lecture about what plantar fasciitis is, using a plaster foot as a visual aid, and I thought it was very useful and interesting and then promptly forgot everything he told me. He then gave me a splint to wear on my foot while sleeping (“gave” – it cost $75; it is possible I could have bought one myself elsewhere for much cheaper, but I did not) and a prescription for a steroid/anti-inflammatory drug, and scheduled an appointment for me to come back in just over a week. 

The first day of the steroid, I had excruciating bone pain in ALL my bones. That was deeply unpleasant. But on days two and three, the bone pain had subsided and I had almost NO PAIN in my afflicted foot. It was MIRACULOUS. Then, as I “stepped down” the dosage of the steroid over the next week, the pain returned. It was dispiriting, to say the least.

Not to mention that the splint for my foot is not… super. It wraps around the ball of my foot and then has a stiff arm that goes up the outside of my shin, and tightens around my calf. Kind of like a shin guard, only a bit more flexible. It keeps my foot in a slightly flexed position, which is not uncomfortable. The edges of the Velcro closure scratch my toes though, and I find it very difficult to sleep with the thing on my leg. Plus, I absolutely cannot walk on it, so I have to remove the whole splint every time I get up to go to the bathroom which is at least twice per night. (Each time, I try to undo the Velcro as quickly as possible, so that I don’t wake my husband. I feel like the sound of Velcro reluctantly parting from itself would be a highly unpleasant way to wake up in the middle of the night.)

When I went back to the podiatrist, the medical assistant asked me how things had gone, and I told her: my foot was definitely better than it was before, but it was not great. She said, “What percentage has your pain been reduced?”

What? Ugh. While I was just whining a few paragraphs ago about wanting quantitative measurements of medical issues, I do not want to be the one who provides them. I am at a loss for how to evaluate things like this. If you ask me to rate my pain on a scale of 1 to 10, I usually have NO IDEA how to do that. Like, I have in my head the worst pain I have ever experienced, so I assign that a 10. But then… it’s very difficult to know where other things fall. Primarily because pain is so immediate, and because the perception of pain fades with time. Right now, it HURTS, and it’s bearable or not.

Anyway, I told her that maybe the pain was 20% better – which was a wild guess on my part – and she said, Wow, okay, that’s not good. If you had said it was a 70% improvement, maybe we could give you another round of the steroid, but the next step is usually an injection. 

Now, I had heard about the injection before I ever made my first appointment with the podiatrist. The person who recommended him had had an injection for my exact problem, and it seemed like that was the treatment, so the steroid/splint treatment I received was a surprise to me. I’d been prepared from the get go for an injection, and the podiatrist had mentioned at my first appointment that if the steroid/splint didn’t work, I would probably need an injection. So I was anticipating an injection. 

The medical assistant left and when the doctor came in, he said, “I hear you were begging for the injection.” Which made my eyes go all wide until I realized he was joking. THEN he told me that a lot of people say the injection is the worst pain they have ever had; that women who have delivered multiple children say it’s much worse than childbirth. (Not the most reassuring way to begin the injection discussion, Doc!) But, he went on, he has never had any patient say that to HIM. HIS injections are painless, and he uses a specific method that makes them so.  

So now I had two things to hold in my head: 1. That some people find this injection to be excruciating and 2. That I could not in any way tell this guy if it WAS, because he would not believe me. 

He put up a little curtain, separating my eyes from from my foot, which is a weird way to phrase that but I am leaving it, and sprayed my foot with what he called a “cold spray.” THAT was pretty uncomfortable, but bearable. And then he started the injection, which took several minutes and was also fairly uncomfortable but bearable. I had to do some deep breathing, and had to clutch my arms across my chest quite tightly to get through it, and there was some tear-prickling at my eyes, but no actual tears. (At one point, he asked if I was doing Lamaze breathing back there, which made me feel quite embarrassed. He went on to say if I left with a baby, we’d each have a lot of explaining to do, har har har, and as I mulled THAT ONE over for awhile, while trying not to breathe so audibly, I came to the conclusion that I probably wasn’t breathing THAT hard, and that instead the Lamaze thing was probably a bit he does for lots of his patients.) (I feel as though, in describing this to you, I am describing this doctor quite unfavorably. I definitely do NOT jive with his sense of humor, although I can see how many patients would find him hilarious and delightful. But I did feel that he was a good listener, and that he cared that I was in pain, and that he wasn’t judging my particular level of pain tolerance, and that he was determined to resolve the problem. AND that he was an experienced and knowledgeable practitioner.)

Anyway. The injection was FAR from the most painful thing I’ve endured. Dental procedures are much, much worse. But afterward, my foot was sore and I kept getting these little shooting pains in my heel and walking was about as uncomfortable as it had been before I saw the podiatrist. 

The injection did HELP, for a while. The next day, my foot felt significantly better. But I am nearly a week out from the first injection and I am back to hobbling around when I wake up/stand up after sitting for awhile. 

And yes, I said “first injection” because the podiatrist mentioned that, for a LOT of people, one injection resolves the issue completely. But for some people, it doesn’t. And that we needed to resign ourselves (he didn’t say resign; I think he said “commit.” Resign feels more accurate for me, though.) to THREE injections before we pursued a different path. He didn’t even mention what the next path would be, so I’m trying to borrow some of his confidence that the second or, gulp, third injection will do the trick. I am NOT looking forward to another injection. Last time, I had the added anxiety of not knowing what to expect. But now I have a different type of anxiety because I DO know. And it’s hard to go into something, knowing it will result in pain. 

This feels like the kind of thing I had better get used to, as I age. More and more parts of me are going to fail. More and more parts of my body are going to experience pain. I am not pleased about it, but I recognize that this is just A Part of Aging. And I’m really very lucky. I can still walk. I can still exercise, even if doing so is slower and causes residual pain. I can afford to treat it. Hopefully my marriage can withstand my ongoing crankiness/hobbling. 

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Deciding to Go to the Doctor

Here it is, Friday, and I’m tired and cranky because my husband and I STILL have not adjusted to the time change, and I’m playing the age-old game of Should I Take Carla to the Doctor?

She seems FINE. She’s happy and energetic and eating in quantities that make me fear bare wrists and ankles are in our near future. But she is also… warm. Not feverish, but warm. (Not that I’d be able to tell if she were feverish; we have owned no fewer than SIX thermometers in her short life and not one of them has ever been accurate. We now have the instant-read kind that you stick in the ear and press a little button, and it’s always – ALWAYS – at least a degree or two high.) And she is also a little more snuggly than normal. And she woke up with some crust in her eyes. “Symptoms” which make me wonder whether she has an ear infection.

Carla has had many ear infections in her not-quite-four years. Not so many that she requires tubes. But enough that I think we may have been to her pediatrician once or twice for other things. Ever. (Not counting well visits, I guess.)

Her brand of ear infections doesn’t come with pain, though. I mean, thank GOODNESS, right? But it does make it a little difficult to evaluate. Sometimes – rarely – she’ll have a brief fever. Usually, she wakes up with crusty eyes. When she was really young, I would have to take her to the doctor just for that, since no respectable daycare was going to let her in looking like she had a severe case of pink eye. But it was always, always an ear infection.

Now that she’s older, the eye crust looks more like what my mom used to call “sleepy dirt” than Crazy Case of Conjunctivitis. So sometimes the only way we know she’s got an ear infection is that she cries out in the middle of the night. That has happened… twice, I think. And, now that she’s older, it seems that the doctors prefer not to medicate her. We used to get antibiotics every time; now the doctor shrugs and says, it’ll probably go away in a few days. Come back if not.

So if I have a not-in-pain child, who may or may not have an ear infection, and who will likely not even get antibiotics if she does have an ear infection, what’s the point in taking her in, right?

WELL LET ME TELL YOU.

I am deathly afraid of missing something. And having her pediatrician scold me. (And also, you know, having her be sick. That’s really the most important thing, of course.)

Last fall, my family was sick pretty much straight through from mid November, but by early January my husband was finally on the upswing of his lengthy cold, and Carla was still sniffly and coughing but otherwise seemed fine. I was the only one who seemed to be getting actively worse, so I finally decided to go to the doctor. It was just after Christmas and I still had a house full of guests and I just Couldn’t Handle Things anymore, so off I went. I got my diagnosis and my antibiotics and went home.

The next week, Carla had the telltale eye crust that means she had an ear infection, so I took her to HER doctor. And while there, I told him that we’d all been sick a long time, blah de blah, she’d been coughing and having a runny nose for a while, and now I think she has an ear infection. Normal stuff, right?

Defensive Interlude: I mean, we’ve ALL had a cold right? And we ALL know that a doctor can do NOTHING for a cold, right? So we wait it out. Eventually, it gets better, and we congratulate ourselves on knowing that it was a cold and on not wasting a copay or our own time. OR it gets worse, in which case we DO go to the doctor and hopefully s/he can do something about it.

Well, Carla had a cold! Cough, runny nose! No fever! No pain! No loss of appetite! No personality changes! Nothing! The only way we even realized she had an ear infection is that she woke up one morning and her eyes were all pink and goopy. She’d also spent the previous day saying, “What?” a lot, which she does a lot normally, but it was an extra lot. So I was pretty confident: ear infection.

So: to recap: I didn’t take her to the doctor when I thought it was a cold, even though it was a lengthy cold, because I was pretty sure he would shrug and say, wait it out. But when she showed symptoms of an ear infection, which can be treated by antibiotics if necessary (although, as I mentioned earlier, as she’s gotten older, the antibiotics have been replaced by a prescription for wait it out), I took her to the doctor.

But he chided me! He said, “Six weeks is way too long for a child of this age to have a cough like that.” And he said her ear infection was SEVERE and BILATERAL and that she probably couldn’t hear a damn thing (the memory of his chiding may be more strongly worded than it was in real time) and wrote me a prescription and sent us on our way.

Well, I felt TERRIBLE. Really. I mean, what mother wants to put her child’s health at risk? What mother wants to misjudge a situation so badly that the doctor scolds you? NO MOTHER, is the answer.

Poor Carla. She had an ear infection for a whole month after that, because the first course of antibiotics didn’t work. (And even though I could TELL it wasn’t working, we still had to finish the entire ten days before the pediatrician could see me again. That is another huff-fest entirely.) She was having SUCH a hard time hearing, and I was panicking about her somehow suffering longterm hearing loss.

So I think it is perfectly reasonable that now I am feeling a little jumpy about missing something.

And yet I’m dithering.

I really, really dislike going to the doctor for nothing. And the two visits since the Great Ear Infection of 2017 have both been false alarms. (One: Her preschool had me pick her up because she was complaining of a stiff neck, which is code for We Think Your Child Has Meningitis; she did not have meningitis. Two: She and I both had a stomach bug a few weeks ago, and hers presented as belly pain and complete loss of appetite. I tried to give the child a bowl of ice cream for dinner, just to get SOME calories in her, and she refused it. So I took her to the doctor. There was nothing he could do; just wait it out.)

Okay, I am still glad I took her in, both false alarm times, a) because you don’t want to mess around with meningitis. And b) because my husband and I were both googling “toddler belly pain” and had become convinced that Carla had appendicitis. Sometimes it is totally worth a trip to the doctor and a copay to find out that your fears are unfounded. (With the latter, though, the pediatrician seemed a little… miffed as to why I’d brought her in. I DID call the nurse advice line in advance! The nurse was who clinched my decision to come in!)

And of course, to add to the whole issue is that it’s FRIDAY. She wasn’t sick enough to keep home from school, but that means I will have to do a quick eval when she gets home, and then hope there’s a spot at the pediatrician… OR wait and see whether she wakes up crying in the middle of the night, and then take her to urgent care.

But none of the above makes me DITHER any less. Especially when the illness in question is just another ear infection.

SIGH.

Hey, at least the urgent care doc is unlikely to chide me, right?