Clayton’s first DPT-P shot was administered at 8 weeks. Within hours, I could not hold him, try as I might, for he was arched right over backwards. His screaming was non-stop, at an unnatural, terrifying pitch I had never heard before. I later learned this is called ‘the encephalitic scream.’ I called our family pediatrician at 2 a.m. asking if I should bring Clayton in to the ER. No, I was told, this was normal, and it was suggested to me that I should just let him ‘cry it out.’ I was then told that Clayton would be fine, and that I should leave him be and go get some sleep. This went on for 16 hours! Still another call, with me more and more frantic. Being told to relax, as my hysterics could be exacerbating the problem. I was exhausted and fearful, and once again, asked if I should bring my son to the hospital. Again the answer was no, and again, told to just go to bed. Sleep! Though my mind and body were screaming for just that, sleep was the last thing on my mind. All I could do was sit on the bed and cry; I’d never felt such a keen feeling of helplessness, and isolation in my life. There was no family to call for help – the Dr’s were all I could count on to help us… or so I thought.
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Friday, November 20, 2009
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