I didn't treat it with antibiotics last time I got it and I thought about leaving it, but I didn't want to deal with it if it got worse so I decided to get it checked out. I called urgent care and they were packed. Then I called McSoothy and she's on vacation. Then I called my old primary and she was booked. So finally I got in at the "extended care" walk in clinic and got seen by a really creepy nurse practitioner. I kid you not, he called me "Baby" (after getting a look at my toasty knocker). It was weird. He clearly didn't know what to do (his first recommendation was anti inflammatories) but I'd called the LC and she'd already told me the recommended antibiotic and dosage so I gave it to him.
It really does seem to be a mild case so I'm not bothered by it. I think it happened because Michael skipped a few feedings over the long weekend and my breasts stayed a lot fuller than they should. Sometimes I think the universe is trying to tell me to stop breastfeeding.
I felt like mastitis was enough for Monday, but then I picked up Michael and noticed that they hadn't written down any milk for him so I asked to see the collection bottle I'd sent that morning. I'd sent a small bottle with fresh that I'd pumped Sunday and some bags of frozen milk. None of the frozen milk was touched. Only about half of the fresh milk was used and I know that there was only 4.5 oz in the bottle and some of that was used to make his oatmeal in the morning.
Nothing was written on his sheet so I asked the teacher still there what happened and she didn't know since she'd been in the other room all day. Then I caught the "manager" on the way out and asked her who manager for the baby home these days is. She said, "When something goes wrong I yell at Brit." What kind of answer is that? And on top of all of that it appeared that his regular teacher who I love and he does great with was let go so that's why she wasn't there.
That night was rough. Michael wanted milk badly but I had very little to give him since my supply was readjusting from the weekend (having too much milk for a couple of days kills my supply). I got him to take a couple of ounces from a bottle after I was tapped out. He wouldn't touch solids but was struggling for milk. I was so angry I could barely sleep.
I confronted Brit about it the next day. She'd only made one bottle for him before lunch and he refused it and she didn't try again. The bottom line of the story is that she pretty much failed Michael Monday. I told her I was pissed and he's been drinking 5-6 oz per day and that he's usually thirstier in the afternoon. They did better today and he drank 6 oz. And it turns out that his teacher wasn't let go... but since I like her I'm sure it will only be a matter of time until the management takes a wrong turn sicking it's head up it's ass again and gets rid of another good teacher.
In happier news, Michael turned 10 months today.
He knows to smile for the camera but makes a really cheesy smile now. I hope he grows back into something a little more natural.
And in this round of "coincidence or the tubes" he finally started imitating sounds last week. He's working hard on making different sounds now. We can say a sound to him and he'll try to repeat it. And he still won't make "mmm" sounds normally, but when he gets upset he makes something that sounds like "mamamamama". He also thinks it's hilarious when we say "Bad Cat". This new level of interaction is a lot of fun and really rewarding.
He finally started a more traditional crawl the other week instead of just rolling. He's getting places quicker but he'd rather be up and walking but I don't think he'll get there until closer to a year.