Unexpected Neon and White

It was a very quiet and low-key kind of day, which is so very welcome around here on occasion. Micah comes home at 2:30, and breaks up the afternoon in a nice kind of way. We have an hour, just Micah and me, before the other boys get home from school and chaos happens with homework and dinner and evening activities.

His bus driver relayed the message that his aide reported a rash on his tummy after swimming today, and wanted me to be aware of it. Micah beelined to me, dropped his bookbag, shed his coat, and stripped out of his shirt. There was definitely a rash. And it was definitely bothering him.

Mom senses kick in in situations like this. Mom senses start analyzing everything. What is it from? Just getting on and off the swimming raft like the aide thought? What else could it be? Too much chlorine in the pool? Is it just on his tummy, or is it elsewhere, too? What should I do about it right now to help him feel better? Is salve alright, or should I have something else? Is it severe enough to call a doctor? Is it an allergic reaction? Will he not be able to swim again? Because his life would end if that were the case.

And these thoughts (and a zillion and thirty nine more) race through a mom's mind in approximately .382 seconds. In a full two seconds I was in the medicine bin looking for something to apply to that huge and itchy rash that was bothering my boy.

We did not have Benadryl. Mostly because it was my first choice, but probably also because nobody in this family suffers from poison ivy, allergic rashes, or any other reason to need Benadryl. I did find the Neosporin, and figured it would at least add a soothing and protective barrier. But then I spotted a bottle of an unidentified something and figured it was worth reading the label.

Benadryl Spray. Bingo. Bin-Go. And I sprayed the boy's tummy, hoping it didn't freak him out with the cold spray. I was in luck, he didn't notice the cold. That's because the burning made his screams reach a decibel that nearly shattered eardrums. I watched as the red rash started glowing neon, and small white bumps grew before my very eyes.

And the boy screamed.

That was a huge fail. I got a wet washcloth and wiped down Micah's tummy, trying to soothe the anger and pain I caused. Micah's go-to in situations like this is a bath, so we tromped upstairs and ran some water. In the meantime, I called the pediatrician to see what they recommended to soothe the rash. They recommended being seen. Of course.

And of course, by the time we got there, the neon faded, the white spots were completely gone, and it was determined that Micah had a rash from swimming. It could have been too much chlorine, or sliding on and off the raft too many times. And Micah was bummed that I didn't stop at Red Box to get him a free movie.

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