Back to square one

It seems like every time I write, things do a 180. By that logic things should be great tomorrow.

The diagnosis of erythema multiforme earlier this week was predicated on the visual appearance of Dominic's rash.

When the rash started moving down his body and changing from looking like bullseyes to something else and back again, the diagnosis went up in smoke.

After more tests, more fevers and the fact he's swelled up like a balloon, we got a new diagnosis Wednesday afternoon.

Your 21-month-old son has herpes, they said.

What?

They said the virus can remain dormant and then suddenly appear. Well, sure, but it's still a sexually transmitted disease. I know he's irresistible to the ladies and all, but seriously... that's 21 months, not years.

An hour later they were falling over themselves apologizing. Mis-read some results, they said. Thought the notation 20140716 meant a number, not the date.

We don't want apologies anymore. We want answers.

It's been two weeks since Trish took Dom to Calgary with the rash. Two weeks of frustration, and now anger. Two weeks in the hospital, in isolation, pumped full of drugs but with no actual diagnosis and seemingly no closer to answers despite everyone's best efforts.

Trish says the rash is starting to disappear from his head, as if it's moving down his body. Meanwhile he's retaining water so badly he can barely see out of his swollen eyes.

He's finally shown signs of being bothered by the rash, hardly sleeping for the past week. They've re-started a steroid cream to help the itching.

A diagnosis would at least give us a plan. Right now there is no plan. We have to hope it either goes away or something worse happens to lead to a diagnosis.

Can they leave the hospital? Not if the fever keeps returning. And as long as they don't know, he sure isn't coming home.

He beat cancer. Cancer! What that doesn't tell you is everything else he now has to beat because of it. Those things are adding up to be just as tough.