The next morning, Nevaeh was still the same, which made it difficult to wake her up. I did what she I to do and notified my boss that I wouldn’t make it in.
“Kevin, this is Kimberly. I won’t be coming it in today.”
“Again? What is it now?” he protested in a hostile voice.
“Nevaeh’s still sick, but she’s gotten worse. I can’t even get her out of bed.”
“This is getting ridiculous. You can’t just take off once a week. I gave you a break last time when you needed off, but I’m giving you a point today.”
“Well, then I guess that’s what you’ll have to do. Kevin, my baby is sick and she needs me. She’s too weak to get dressed or to take her to the sitter’s house. I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow afternoon so I won’t be in then either.”
“Really?” he hissed.
“Yes, really. Nevaeh is my priority. With the condition she’s in, I’m going to stay with her.” I stated, not caring whether my boss liked it or not.
“That’s two points.” He warned before hanging up on me.
Frustrated, I called my best friend. I was beside myself as I reflected how hateful and mean Kevin was treating me. Venting would do me some good. After I had told Lorraine what happened, my friend agreed with me—he was being a jerk and didn’t show any compassion. It made me feel better that at least someone shared my opinions.
By the time Friday rolled around, my daughter had shown no change. Her back still hurt and her fever was still present. Her knees, ankles, toes and fingers were all swollen. The ibuprofen only seemed to keep her temperature at bay for a few short hours before it reared its ugly head again. When we finally got to her appointment, I explained all of my daughter’s symptoms and her behavior to the pediatrician.
“It’s just so out of the blue for her to act this way. She’s normally your typical rambunctious eight-year-old girl who loves to run and play.” I pleaded with the doctor to figure out what was wrong with my little girl.
“It’s possible we could do an x-ray though it won’t help much since whatever she has is affecting various parts of her body. I’d suggest we do some blood testing and analyze the results. It’s hard to say what she might have without having some numbers to determine what we’re dealing with.”
I agreed that it was probably the best route to go. “When will those be available?” I asked as I held Nevaeh closer.
“We should have them back within a few days, but a couple of them might take about seven days or so.”
I sighed; it didn’t sound very promising to me. I wanted immediate answers—I didn’t want to wait a week. I wanted her back to her old self. “There’s no way we can rush the tests?” I begged, hopeful that the doctor might be able to pull some strings.
“I’m afraid not. That’s just how long some of the labs take.” He looked over Nevaeh’s chart, “Is there any family history of others having these symptoms?” he inquired.
“No. No one in my family has ever had any kind of disease except diabetes, and that was on my mom’s side.” I answered him.
“What about on her dad’s side?” he continued probing.
“I couldn’t tell you, but I don’t recall him ever speaking of any.”
“Is there any way you could find out? Perhaps call him and ask him?” the doctor suggested.
“It’s not like I can contact him quickly. The last I heard, he was in prison, and I couldn’t begin to imagine which one. We’ve not had any contact for a long time and I don’t have anything to do with his family either.”
“I understand. We’ll get her blood drawn and request the labs right away. In the meantime, continue to give her ibuprofen for her fever, and it should also help alleviate some of the pain she’s suffering from. I’ll keep you posted,” he promised as he walked us to the door.
In the parking lot, I broke down after I got my daughter buckled into her booster seat. I tried to hide it from her, but the loud sobs escaped my mouth before I could stop them. Fear and panic took over and won.
“Momma, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” Nevaeh worried as she looked at me from the rearview mirror.
I turned the mirror, looking at her as she sat in the backseat. “I’m just upset about you baby. Mommy loves you so much.” I wiped the tears from my face.
“I’m sorry for worrying you, momma. I’ll get better. I promise.” Nevaeh vowed.