While scrubbing, I started thinking about taking G to the ENT. He has another ear infection. His 5th ear infection in 6 months. His 3rd type of antibiotic in 3 months. As much as I hate the idea of surgery, I think tubes might be the best bet. This thought occurred to me after G's 1-year-old well visit, when the doc said he still had fluid behind his eardrum, that his speech and hearing could potentially be impaired, even if he miraculously stopped getting infections.
I do not like the idea of surgery. When I found out G was breech, I took lots of steps to try to get him to turn and avoid a c-section: laying upside down an inverted ironing board, seeing a chiropractor, and undergoing external cephalic version. None of these things worked. I had to accept that and move on.
With G, he has family history stacking his odds in favor of tubes. My dad has ear problems to this day--he had to visit his dr. again when he 1st antibiotic didn't clear up his recent ear infection. I had ear problems as a kid (3 sets of tubes). I can shove JuicePlus down my son's throat all day long, but I cannot fight genetics.
So while I was mulling all this over while cleaning the john, a song popped into my head, a song so appropriate for our visit next week to the ENT and the prospect/likelihood of tubes.
You've got to know when to hold 'em.
Know when to fold 'em.
Know when to walk away,
And know when to run.
You never count your money
When your sitting at the table,
There'll be time enough to count 'em
When the dealin's done.
Know when to fold 'em.
Know when to walk away,
And know when to run.
You never count your money
When your sitting at the table,
There'll be time enough to count 'em
When the dealin's done.
I wonder if I will ever get to a point in my life when I know when to fold 'em without first staging a massive battle between me and forces beyond my control?
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