Magnum of NyQuil for Mommy- $13.49
Box of travel tissues - $1.79
Bag of "bribe" sweets for toddler- $1.99
Taking a 2-yr old to the Walk-In clinic when Mommy is sick - INSANITY!
(This is going to be a long post - so grab your favorite libation and a cushion for your bum and Depends if you pee when you laugh, because you WILL laugh!)
It all started Friday night when the mini-cold I had turned into a horrible sore throat. You know that kind that you want to take something for it but you can't even swallow your own spit, let alone a couple of Advil. That
retching pain that makes you actually consider putting a
spittoon next to your bed so you don't HAVE to swallow. That off-the-charts pain that would cause you to say "yes" to anything your children asked for because a nod would be easier than the ensuing amount of begging you would have to
endure if you said "no."
Quite honestly, I barely remember the weekend. My husband took over and I merely existed. I am not the lay in bed kind of patient. I would rather be in the mix than off in a room away from the family. And, I rarely go to the doctors. I think I had tonsillitis about 4 or 5 years ago and that got me in pronto, but other than throwing my back out, I haven't been back.
Until yesterday. I stuck it out as long as I could. But my mom once told me of an untreated strep-throat case gone bad...she's a hairdresser so she gets all the
gory details of things like this...so I decided to go...but NOT alone, unfortunately.
I had to have my older two children at school an hour early for a field trip so, I literally rolled out of bed, fed everyone and jumped in the car to drop off my field-trippers and head to the walk-in clinic. I hadn't changed my sweats, washed my face, brushed my teeth or even looked in a mirror for that matter.
I was promptly greeted by a career-dressed, obviously-showered and very-well-put-together former high school acquaintance who apparently did not recognize me behind my mascara-raccoon eyes, stained sweat shirt and wiggling toddler. So, what do I do? I say, "Deb? Right? Michelle. How are you?" I couldn't leave there having her think that I not only had lost my cheerleader looks but my memory, too. She was sweet and handed the baby a ball to keep him occupied until I got called in.
Well, that ball touched every human in the waiting room. Mostly their feet, thank goodness! I chased him from the handy push-button water fountain to the exit door about a thousand times.
Apparently, when travelling at the height of toddler speed a wee one can throw his whole 27 lbs hard enough to open the exit door. Each time this happened, the door would make the annoying "ding-dong" sound. The desk receptionist would come with her "how are you?" smile posed and ready. I smile back with my "Oh gosh, I am so sorry, again!" half-smile, half-grimace. She would return a "read that baby a book" grin and I was off toward the water fountain.
"MICHELLE
BROWNLOW?"
I scooped up the baby and walked toward the woman who had just called my name. I think my lips were actually puckering because I was so excited to not have to run, chase, scold and whimper in public. Send me to a little room where I can control my child a little easier. Close the door behind you and I will be just fine.
Who the heck was I kidding?!
The next 45 minutes consisted of hands in the trashcan, back in the mouth, playing the chase game while I frantically tried to get hand-sanitizer on his clenched little fists. There was screaming and whining as I tried to convince him we should read (
he cried a little, too). A child who spent 13 months trying to walk now decides he MUST crawl ALL THE HECK over the floors that have probably been peed and pooped on...oh gosh, I gag at the thought. As soon as I pick him up to wash his hands....they go IN HIS MOUTH! Why is this?
OK, so about 20 minutes into this chaos ensuing behind Door#3, I decide to use one of his fears against him. I know, mean, but I was desperate, people! He is fearful of heights. So, I grab a book and plop him on the L-shaped exam table so my aching body could stand still for more than 2.5 seconds.
Because the L-shape was a little reclined, the fear fled and his voice jumped 3
octaves into a
squealing "
Wwwhhhheeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" He thinks it is a SLIDE. God help me!
He turns toward the reclining back, throws his hands to the top and starts to run, trying to get to the top.
You know that white roll of paper that covers the table? The actual roll is hung from the back of the table, his hands are on either side of the top of the strip running to the end of the table and his little sneakers are going WARP SPEED flinging the white strip behind him as though it is the smoke from his super shoes.
I think we killed a full acre of rain forest in 6 seconds. But I got to stand still.
The other 25 minutes were less than enjoyable so I put on our coats and left the building.
"But, ma'am, the doctor will see you in two minutes."
"
Suuuuuuure, he will! Not falling for it nurse-lady!"
I have a babysitter and an appointment for tomorrow. Which is a good thing considering I now have red blistery patches along my back that I think are SHINGLES! Lord, help me!
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