Poor Lydia suffered through another set of allergy testing. Nine needles shoved into her back while Jeremy held her hair out of the way and I pinned her arms under mine as I pressed her screaming, writhing head into my chest.
Lydia is still not allergic to a damned thing. While I'm not all that surprised, all her presenting symptoms are gastricly related, I was really hoping that SOMETHING would answer a few questions for us. the allergist suggests we go back to a pediatric GI specialists. Just a different one then who we were seen by last time.
(Apparently the GI people have now given the cold shoulder to and pissed off the Allergy people. Lovely.)
So. Hello, Square One! Nice to see you, again.