My tiniest girl, who is 10 month old now (How is that possible? She’s not a tiny baby anymore. She stands on her own. She cruises around. She crawls like a speed demon and can […]
My tiniest girl, who is 10 month old now (How is that possible? She’s not a tiny baby anymore. She stands on her own. She cruises around. She crawls like a speed demon and can climb! What is happening?), has been having a tough go of it recently.
Awhile back—I’m talking like two months or so—she got a diaper rash. So I did what I’ve always done: put some diaper cream on it and didn’t think about it again. Only it didn’t go away. So I applied more diaper cream. Either because I’m not a fast learner or because I have exactly one zillion other things going on, I didn’t stop to think that maybe what she had wasn’t a diaper rash and that I should consult the pediatrician about it. Finally I did have that thought, but her 10-month checkup was coming up so I decided to just wait until then rather than make a separate appointment.
The checkup came, and I pointed out her baboon butt to the pediatrician who immediately diagnosed it as a yeast infection. “Yup, diaper cream isn’t going to fix that problem.” Parenting fail. (Don’t feel bad, I have so many of them, I’m used to it by now. Oh, but you can feel bad for the baby and her flaming red butt. That is objectively sad.)
The pediatrician sent us away with instructions to use some hydrocortisone for two days and then switch to a three week regime of Lotrimin. As an aside—do you know how much Lotrimin costs? Let me just tell you that in the last two weeks I have spent close to $200 on cream that I then take home and apply to a person’s butt. Why? Just why? Parenting is so luxurious.
So away we went, stopping at the pharmacy on the way home, so I could spend the equivalent of a nice meal at a decent restaurant on butt cream.
And I did just what the doctor said. I applied the hydrocortisone cream for the requisite two days. Then I switched to the Lotrimin. And do you know what happened? NOTHING. Her butt didn’t look a bit less baboon-ish. It was still flaming red. Poor baby. In fact, after a few days, I would say that it was arguably getting worse. At one point it was bleeding.
Parenting is the best, isn’t it? I’m glad we can share this time to talk about bleeding butts, aren’t you?
So I called the pediatrician back and he suggested that I use the hydrocortisone and the Lotrimin at the same time for two weeks. And if it wasn’t better in two weeks, to bring her in. So we’re a few days into the two cream mixture. And her butt is less flaming. But it’s still there. Like it’s not as angry as it was, but I can tell it’s just hiding out, waiting for me to let my guard down, to not lather her entire nether-region with an inch-thick layer of white goop, before it comes back with a vengeance. And all I can think is that we had planned on sending her to college but instead we’re going to spend all that money on ointment to soothe her butt.
Her butt is the saddest thing I’ve seen, like, in awhile. And then yesterday she was sent home from daycare with a fever and a nose that’s pouring out green boogers. A sad butt, a fever and green boogers. Poor girl can’t catch a break.