Negative Tests and Why They Cause Anxiety

I don't know if this a special needs mom thing or plain just a mom thing.  When all the ques point to something is up, when you're on high alert and you're not sure exactly how to define what is causing this heightened state and the test you were sure was going to answer all of this comes back normal and then MORE anxiety creeps in?  How is this possible?  Shouldn't it calm you down that nothing is wrong.  Shouldn't a more relaxed state replace the anxiety.  Logic suggests that this is what should happen, but instead my eyes get wide, my heart races and I start staring at the boy from head to toe for hours trying to figure out what I'm missing.

Simon has very loose and stinky BM's.  My poop obsession is a whole other blog post.  He is having pretty extreme mood swings.  He is having break through seizures, though very small in number he has been well controlled for months now (except the last time he had c.diff).  He smells funny.  He has bouts of what can only be pain and we've decided its stomach pain.  He is startling easy and just a general sense of blase.  I was certain the c.diff had returned since after his Flagyl he got another sinus infection and ended up on antibiotics again.  But nope, there is none detected.  So what's up? 

I'm not a particularly hyper mom.  Just ask Hayden who had a broken collar bone for three days before I suspected something was "really" wrong.  Most complaints are met with, "give it a couple of days".  Generally this is a good rule, if something is wrong it gives it time to really show itself, if its a passing thing you didn't waste time and money at the doctor.  This, of course, has the exception of bleeding out your eyes and bones poking through skin.

The difference in Simon is that he doesn't speak English yet; he's working on his ASL but its still a version not taught in any class I've taken.  He is completely dependent on our scrutiny to get proper treatment.  It does make me a little nutty when he, in his own way, is trying to communicate that he's not right.  Often, I don't figure it out and it passes and he's fine.  Sometimes I have to just lie quietly with him until his spirit points me in the right direction or just plainly lets me know he needs immediate intervention.  Mostly, we get it narrowed down and get the right test.

At this moment I'm on what I call high alert.  I really feel like something is brewing.  We have been fortunate to deal with mainly minor things the last year or so (at least in our community), so I will be watching but will restrain from panic.  But oh how I so wish that a negative test made me feel more comfortable.