I went in for my annual physical today, visiting the avuncular Dr. Trout, my doctor (and occasional savior) for many years. After the he gave me usual congratulations on the new baby, I made my usual comments on continuing breast problems. After much questioning and an exam, he diagnosed me with allergic dermatitis of the nipple and suggested that I might actually be allergic to Artyom’s saliva! Whoa. He prescribed a powerful anti-inflammatory (Ultravate) and gave me the litany about breastfeeding and topical steroid use. All of this is at odds with the “you still have thrush” coming from my nurse practitioners. I’ll see if the meds help.
When I came home, I spent my obligatory hour and a half on gooogle checking all this out. Tomorrow I’ll call Gretta Granola and ask about the both the diagnosis and medication before I use it. What a weird diagnosis! And how depressing. I feel like I need to call Maury Povich.
On a cheerier note, I spoke to Patricia for almost a half hour today. Our schedules have been incompatible–she comes home from work when I go to sleep prior to my evening/early morning baby shift. I can’t remember everything that was said, but I know that I yelled “Ahhhh!” into the phone and that she had some delicious gossip for me.
E.T.A. Subsequent doctor visits revealed that I still had thrush compounded by dermatitis. I was allergic to the nipple cream originally prescribed to me for thrush. Go figure.