AND SO, we hauled him back into the pediatrician's office.
She took one look in his throat and declared him to have Hand, Foot and Mouth Disease.
Immediately my mind flashed back to this "incident," which had taken place two days prior:
|It started out innocently, gazing at the petting zoo animals from afar.|
|Then one of the zoo employees invited us for a closer look.|
|Dumb me was trying to snap a pic when BG put out his hand...|
|... and succeeded in petting the goat right on his nose.|
I felt like a total delinquent because the zookeeper chick had specifically asked people to only let their kids pet the animals' sides or backs. No face-touching was allowed. It happened in a flash when I attempted to take a picture . . . which I was really only doing because both my husband and I had funny pictures with goats when we were kids.
So as soon as our pediatrician said BG had Hand, Foot and Mouth disease, I was like "Holy crap it's because he touched that damn goat."
Of course, two seconds later she said what I'm sure she says to everyone who immediately assumes this is the crazy-scary animal disease from Europe: "This is not the same thing as Hoof-and-Mouth, or Foot-and-Mouth. Only animals can get those."
We went on to learn that Hand, Foot and Mouth is an especially common virus in our neighborhood during the summer, and that—like all viruses—there wasn't much we could do about it except try to keep BG comfortable with some fever-reducing meds. We were also told to give him only soft and mushy foods for a week, after which time everything should be cleared up.
|I'm still blaming the goat!|
I was thankful that none of the adults in his life ever caught it, either, because we were told it was pretty contagious, and have other friends who suffered from it much worst than their toddlers did.
Another health scare behind us!