There is a moment I think in every parent's life that worry sets in and its a profound. What I mean is that it gets under your skin and it takes root in your very core. Your mind begins to wander into ugly territory and you reason that horrible things do happen, what would possibly exempt you? I will unapologetically admit that it is a little over the top BUT I will say I can't quite help it. While I can chalk some of it to my own life experiences that do have some dark days compounded with the over the top Latina that runs through my brain I enter a state of mental panic at times. This time I found a lump on Lydia.
The lump was in the crevasse of her leg and pelvis. It was sensitive to the touch but there were no other indications such as fear, pain or even discomfort. I insisted on taking her to the doctor which Eliot dutifully did. The doctor told him it was a swollen lymph node a result of a small infection on her foot. On the bottom of her foot was a small puncture wound that did look red likely a result of an old house with with old wood floors. She prescribed antibiotics.
The antibotics were diligently given to her twice a day for two weeks. The lump was still there. I reasoned medications are not magic; give it time. A week after the lump was still there. That weird sense of instablity overcame me, asking the eternal "What if...?" Eliot took her back to the doctor today. Intentially I made the appointment with her old school peditrician feeling like she would know. She has been around for awhile. She looked at it. She poked it. Decidedly she said it was a swollen lymph node and that it may never stop being swollen. It could always been lumpy until she 112 years of age. Apparently, since she is little the rapid cell growth sort of stumps the node a bit. It's too small to be concerned about anything else and it is is not a hernia, which was our other thought. She is fine. Thank God. She is absolutely a-okay.