Gage’s head thing (the not positive culture ringworm) is worse. Over the weekend it just grew. And now instead of a patch on his head having thinning hair the size of an egg, it’s the size of a fist. And the hair is falling out at a greater rate than before. The pediatrician who saw it a couple of weeks ago was reluctant to prescribe anything because of all the drugs Gage is on — she wasn’t sure how the drugs would interact. So she gave us some medicated fungal treating shampoo and we were to hope for the best!

Well now it’s worse and he has a patch of something on his cheek and now Quinn has two little patches of it and it looks like ringworm, kind of. But is the ringworm separate from the scalp fungal-eating patch? Because of Gage’s susceptibility to pick up just about anything, I’m wondering: did he bring it in and now Quinn has it because of the close poximity?

A typical life cycle for anything out of the ordinary just rocks the boat for everyone.

The Life Cycle of a Rash Noticed on a Post Transplant Kid
- One night you are helping your son shower by washing his hair and you notice a patch of hair is missing. Upon further investigation you notice it is scaly and flaky. You call your wife in a panic while she is grocery shopping!
- You call the transplant team because you wonder if this isn’t a rare symptom from an anti-rejection drug, because you think surely, if there is a rare symptom, my boy will get it!
- They tell you to call the pediatrician.
- Which is great, because our pediatrician saves daily appointments for situations like this. So, you get an appointment.
- And it is great, except for when the ped isn’t really comfortable with prescribing meds of any kind to a transplant recipient. Culture for ringworm is sent out and it’s a negative result.
- About a day or two later a rash develops on his nose and you keep (anti-fungal) ointment on it. You think the rashes are connected. When we treat with ointment it looks better. And even goes away.
- About a week or two later a sibling develops a rash. Treat.
- During this time there are calls, emails and notes from both schools. Where you explain about the rash on the head and the culture was negative.
- The scalp-eating fungal patch grows. So you say “Screw it! I’m going to the top!” and call your child’s dermatologist. Who’s appointment gal says can arrange an appointment in May! Call back tomorrow and speak with her scheduling nurse, who might be able to fit you in. You have to wait until tomorrow.
- You call the transplant team, relay that the ped doesn’t want to give meds, but your kid is looking half bald, and she directs you back to the ped or the dermatologist. Yup! You’re already on that!
- The transplant docs want you to go to the ped for things like this! But hey! The aren’t comfortable treating it with any drugs!
- So you must make another ped appointment for the viewing of the scalp-now-invading-the-face-eating rash because to just wait feels wrong, even though you know they won’t prescribe drugs.
- The transplant nurse says she will take the call from the ped if they page her and she can find out what drugs he/she can have. Because you know there ain’t no way the ped will prescribe drugs for both of the kids!
- Rearrange day to make the appointment with both kids.
- Repeat tomorrow with dermatologist.
- Realize that there is no way your mangy looking kid can have his school picture taken on Wednesday.

Gage and Quinn don’t have one physician or one team that treats them, so often it seems that there is no one in charge and it’s painfully apparent during situations like these. Well, I guess that’s not entirely true. I’m in charge.

When I think about the hilariousness of this entire situation it makes me laugh a little bit. Except when it makes me cry a little bit.