Baby Expat: April 2013

A vacation flanked by illness. A beautiful resort, the beach, friends, Henri’s love of atto (water), bookended between an ER trip for an ear infection and three doctor visits in four days due to enterovirus-caused Hand, Foot and Mouth Disease. This describes the past week and a half – that and a worry so deep you don’t even realize that it is wearing on you to the bone. A sharp reminder of what really matters.

The day before we set out to Kota Kinnabalu, Malaysia, Henri started to pull on his ear and cry. The doctor a week prior had seen a reddened eardrum and told me to look out for signs in case an infection takes hold and so then, a day before our trip, it had. Only, it was tomb sweeping holiday and all the doctor’s offices were closed. Hence the trip to the ER at Veteran’s Hospital.

Thank goodness I didn’t have to go to the ER in my first year here in Taiwan, I’m not sure I could have survived it. A friend via text helped me actually find the darn place and navigate it once I was there – luckily she also warned me that I would be waiting amid a line-up of stretchers full of sick people – mostly elderly folks - and that just generally speaking it wasn’t going to be pretty. Luckily there is a separate waiting area for children once you get registered and after walking down the hallway lined with stretchers, Henri was the only kid there. The doctor’s office was in disrepair – peeling paint, ants marching along the wall. The doctor spoke broken English and kept saying Henri had an injection which I thought meant “infection” but then he said no, an injection… So he prescribes Henri antibiotics, a decongestant and throws in some fever reducer just in case – he doesn’t think it’s so bad that Henri can’t travel so off we go.

The traveling went well, everything on time, no waiting in lines or for bags. Our 45 minute taxi ride to the resort was comfortable and we are welcomed at the resort with pineapple-peach tea which was delicious.

Henri was so excited by all the water. The first night he fell asleep talking about “atto” and woke up the next morning talking about “atto.” Between that and the tractor that plowed the beach each day – he could hardly contain himself.

Everything was really nice and relaxing. We were assigned to the more exclusive wing of the hotel so we got free breakfast at their fine dining restaurant with floor to ceiling windows looking out to the sea and access to a big semi-private pool that was way less crowded.

I became quickly addicted to the Rasa Ria Punch which was orange juice, pineapple juice and grenadine mixed with ginger ale. Henri was very brave in the water – in the pool he walked down to where the level of the water reached his neck – he didn’t seem to realize or care that he couldn’t swim – he loved jumping into the water… a lot (encore, encore!!). We took him down a big water slide that he loved. I was afraid to take him down so Maxime did – and the slide was so slow I could hear him squeaking as he pulled himself along. So I decided if it was that slow I could handle it. So then I take him down and I go insanely fast, like holy you-know-what fast, so you can hear me yelling all panicked “I can’t slow down, I can’t slow down, take him, take him!!!” as I plunge into the pool holding Henri as high as I can above my head. (everyone survived) (apparently shorts slow you down, bathing suit bottoms do not).

Henri was just really happy to be there, Maxime was getting much needed R&R, and I was glad for the beautiful change in scenery. For two of the days our friends joined us which made for even more fun times, including a poolside foot massage and drinks while listening to a really bad cover band… But on the day they left three of four of them got sick and the next day, so did Henri. But with his immune system weakened by the ear infection he got really, really sick – a horrible fever and stomach problems – and when looked at by the hotel nurse, his ear infection was still present. We checked out of the hotel with one sick baby and while I feared the worse on the plane he did really, really well – he had slept the entire morning the day we left so he didn’t sleep but he behaved himself so well even though we kept torturing him with medicine and he had started to break out into a rash – which I believed to be diaper rash or just a reaction to the pool, sand or different diet, at the time.

When we arrived in Taiwan I knew we would have to pass their quarantine officers who magically check everyone’s temperatures as you walk by… And as I tried to walk by without making eye contact, an ignorant foreigner who didn’t read the signs about not waltzing into their country all sick and stuff… I heard them speaking in hurried Chinese saying “baby, baby,” and I knew we had been caught trying to smuggle our ill child into the country. We were asked to step to the side as they took Henri’s passport information and asked us a series of questions obviously trying to see if we had been to mainland China and if we had been hanging out with chickens and ducks. At one point I lifted Henri back into view of their cameras so I could see what they see when someone with a temperature comes into view… I had expected him to glow or something but instead an alarm went off… “UNGH, UNGH, UNGH!!!!” so I slowly lowered him back down… They let us off with a handful of surgical masks for Henri and a mandate to go to the doctor within 24 hours. They called me a couple days later to confirm this. While I didn’t like being stopped I’m glad they are so vigilant, especially with the new virus so close by.

After the first doctor’s appointment they thought he had strep – they were out of strep tests, however, but during the millisecond Henri had opened his mouth and said “ahhh” she had seen something (puss pockets?) on his throat. The next day I returned due to his rash seeming to worsen. Turns out it was not strep but Hand, Foot and Mouth disease. It’s actually not that uncommon. It’s much more prevalent in Asia than in the U.S. It runs its course in a week. So really not that big a deal if it wasn’t so darn icky. My poor baby has a rash on the soles of his feet, the palms of his hands, between his fingers, on his mouth and lips, inside his mouth and all over his legs, with a bad spot just beneath his diaper. And he is being SUCH a big boy about it. He points the little blisters out occasionally and says ouch but mostly he is his happy, sweet, funny self. We went for another check up this morning at the doctor’s office and he was literally running laps back and fourth across the office. He should be going stir crazy by now being isolated and mostly kept home but he’s taking it all in stride. He is taking it better than I am. I feel so worried for him that I’m on the verge of tears half the time. I have a chip on my shoulder, ready to lash out at anyone who so much as looks at Henri wrong.

Once back in San Francisco, when I had a pretty challenging job, I was so stressed out over a big event I was planning. I remember I was so wrapped up in it – now I don’t even remember which event – but at the time I was so stressed out that something would go wrong and it was on me if it did. I remember calming down by forcibly reminding myself what was important – if the event went poorly, my husband would still be married to me… my parents and my family would still love me… the things that were actually important would not change. For some reason Henri getting what is just a really ugly virus has reminded me of what is important. Family. Who love you no matter what.