Justified, Gosh Darn It.

I didn't want my fears about Logan being on 5East to be even remotely justified, but they are. Of course, it's all premature: All I know for sure is that he's back at CHO, this time in 5South. And I know that at one point this afternoon, his temperature reached 104 while on Tylenol, so I'm confident that he's where he needs to be, and that we did what needed to be done. Why it got to that point, I don't know. I feel like God has kicked me in the gut-- or maybe merely allowed me to be kicked in the gut -- once again. I know, I know: That's not fair. But it's simply how I feel, so I said it. And I know that my poor sweet boy is suffering yet again. And I know that I still fail to see how torturing a 4-year old with this kind of crap is necessary or fair. I don't know what he has or if he has anything at all; they drew blood cultures when he got to the ER before he was admitted, so we should know something within the next day or two, if there's anything to be known. It could simply be a neutropenic fever. Of course, he's had elevated temps from neutropenia during previous cycles, but never so high. So we anticipate to hear that there's an infection. Somewhere.

What I'm wondering about is the nature of the bug. If it's something that came from within himself (a la the line infection last round), that's one thing. If it's NOT -- if it's something that came from outside of his body -- I'm going to pitch a royal FIT over him not being in isolation before he was released. I don't care if they were full. They had no business giving him a roommate when he was neutropenic. He should've been put somewhere, anywhere, by himself. But it didn't happen. And oooh, if that's the root of this fever, you can bet your best brassy buttons that I'm going to let them know what I think.

Yeah, I know: It won't do any good. They know it was wrong. They were full. They tried. Blah blah blah. But it DID do good when I hit the ceiling over the missing c-diff cultures cycle 2, so you never know. I'm tired, I'm emotional, and they've pissed me off. Don't mess with mama bear or chances are good that I'll chew your hand off. Or... something.

In other news, Brady appears to be sensitive to not only all traces of dairy, but soy as well. He spent much of last night and today screaming. Incessantly. I'm angry over it; I remember praying fervently during my pregnancy that this one time, we'd be blessed with a good baby. And it didn't happen. He's cranky and fussy and super sensitive to foods, which means I can't even indulge in my faves because it'll send him over the edge and leave me regretting the indiscretion.

I'm struggling. None of this is fair. I know the good and bad comes in waves, but I can't see God anymore. I feel alone. And it sucks. I don't want this to be my life.