boys will be boys.

This week was an interesting week for the Schnoor family. Timeline goes something like this:

Almost a week ago from today, we awake to find Keagan's face and part of his neck covered in purple spots. Being the neurotic mama that I am, I immediately jump out of bed, get dressed and start making calls. Of course, I immediately jump to the conclusion that it must be meningococcal (or some other deadly disease!), but am relieved to find out the poor guy had polka dots due to coughing so hard through the night that he busted capillaries in his face. Poor guy! However, we were strongly cautioned that the minute the spots became worse, spread below his nipples or he came down with a fever we were to go straight to the ER. The cough continues through the weekend and we all religiously check the little guy's belly to ensure the spots weren't spreading. And the never did.

Monday comes and I have the opportunity to work late, so I take it. Five o'clock rolls around and a call from Kendel comes urging me to come home because Keagan isn't doing well. I rush home only to find an extremely sick baby -- high fever (104 degrees based on my nursing skills), screaming, dry heaving and just all around not himself. We rush to Urgent Care first, hoping we can offset some medical costs, only to be turned away. The nurse called to the front desk calmly alerts me that they are not able to see a young child as sick as he his. I'm instantly mortified when she takes one look at him and asks, "how long has he looked like this?" What can such a question possibly mean? We rush to the ER and quickly have a room due to his age. Six and a 1/2 hours later after a single dose of Motrim, a chest x-ray ruling out pneumonia, some blood work ruling out pertussis, a popsicle and stuffed cat from the dollar store turn Keagan around. By midnight, he's laughing and the doctor's are amazed it is the same kid based on how sick he was when we first came in. Truly a miracle, but talk about frustrating! Luckily Kendel had Monday Night Football to help; all I had was an extremely outdated issue of Portland Monthly.

At least Keagan shared half of his red popsicle with me.

While dealing with Keagan's four-week long coughing fit, another Schnoor medical emergency occurs -- this time it is Kynton's turn.

Sunday evening both boys are playing chase, tag and hide-and-seek through the house. I'm exhausted and can recall telling them oh, close to fifteen times to stop running through the house and get ready for bed. I turn off all the lights at the far end of the house hoping to urge them to stay in their room and head off to our room to finish putting away the weekly laundry. A few minutes pass and I hear Kynton scream and then he comes running to our room in tears. My first thought is Keagan must have taken a pass at him, but then he tells me he ran into the counter. Ouch! The kitchen was pitch black, the new island is in place, and our counter tops are black. He didn't have a chance.

Sadly, I chalk up his tears to exhaustion and not to pain and urge him to go to bed. The crying continues, his gums above his two front teeth turn blacker and blacker. And I'm on the internet trying to find some answers. We give him a dose of children's tylenol (Keagan too because he claims his "teet" hurt) and off to sleep they both go. Monday morning comes and he is still complaining of pain, so I make a call to Gentle Dental as we don't have a dentist we can call our own and the appointment is made for later that morning.

Kynton was such a trooper! He sat through the exam without any whining, wiggling or complaining. They cleaned his teeth, flossed, took x-rays and analyzed the still beautiful white tooth sitting in a gum that was obviously extremely bruised and irate. The end conclusion once the exam was done was gloomy: two cavities, one chipped tooth and the hurt tooth must be extracted. News of the cavitities really aggravated me. Especially since I'm so careful about what the boys eat and make sure they brush their teeth. But I'm not a fan of flossing, so that's one strike against me. Second strike, bad genes. Kendel has horrible teeth and a ton of fillings, so there isn't much I can do to combat that.

Since Kynton is starving and doesn't want to miss any time at Hillside, we decide the tooth will be pulled first thing the next morning. Tuesday arrives and Kynton is ushered back into the dentist chair without me (they recommend I don't tag along). A little over an hour goes by and he comes out, tokens in hand and a big wad of gauze stuck where his little white tooth used to be. He's beaming, the dentist is amazed at what an "excellent patient" he is and we then discuss what went down behind closed doors. Unfortunately, Kynton's mouth experienced more trauma then originally determined and a visit to an oral surgeon is recommended. The reason is because not all of the tooth could be removed, even after two different dentists have tried. This needs to be looked at because as I understand, it can cause further issues to the adult tooth if it doesn't naturally reabsorb into his mouth. More on that to follow after his appointment on Thursday with the oral surgeon.

Wednesday is the day he'll receive three fillings and potentially a pulp procedure, similar to a root canal, if the chipped tooth needs more protection. Fingers crossed he is as good of a patient on this third trip as he was the two times before!

I absolutely dread the dentist. Which is exactly why Kynton's first trip was only due to an oral injury. Now I feel bad about this as he has cavities and a chipped tooth I never ever would have noticed. I guess the positive element to the story is the cavities were found, Kynton had a good time and he ended up with a visit from the tooth fairy!