Still Processing
I just got back from the pediatrician.
I hate their waiting room. My standard same-day appointment is at 10:30. I get there at 10:20, sit in the waiting room until 11:40, sit in the exam room until noon, and then get a 5-minute visit, wait for scrip/shots, and race to get Frank from school at 12:25.
I was scared for Molly - she's lethargic again today, has a fever...again... and I was freaked out about the herps. So Cory took Frank to school so I could insist on an earlier appointment and hopefully have less delay.
We go to the doctor frequently these days, and we wait FOREVER.
Twice though, Frank's had head injuries when they've taken us right in, before everyone with appointments. Once, it was after they closed, but the doctor was still there. Once, when Mimi was little at daycare she had a fever shoot up over 105 and couldn't be roused, and the doctor sat in with us to keep an eye on her in the middle of the day. Otherwise, all 3 times, we would have had to go to the ER.
So, I understand the waiting. Their costs are low, especially for where we live, and our doctor is compassionate and caring. She has a wicked memory for details.
I got a 9:15 appointment, but the head of the practice is out, so our ped had double patients. Luckily, I only had Molly in the waiting room, and she was so listless that she just put her head down on my shoulder. I didn't want to touch anything, so I didn't sit down. Some dad, whose daughter was a week younger than Molly and easily twice her size decided to run down all the ways his daughter was more fabulous than mine. I could tell she was his first baby. He was giving me tips on helping Molly learn to walk. Clearly, he couldn't tell by the pain in our faces that Molly was hurting and to shut the fuck up. Was I ever that obnoxious? I'm sure. And still am.
So Molly looked at woefully during his diatribe and thew up inside my polo shirt, right into my industrial-strength bra, which held it like a baggie would. The receptionist went and got me & Mo scrubs to change into, but, as Molly was too limp to stand or sit, we couldn't change. I went behind the door, thinkinging they would give us a room, but we just stood there for 20 minutes, soaking in puke. Molly was scalding, too, and I tried to get someone to take her temp right then, but they kept telling me it would just be a minute.
Finally, I told one of the nurses (they all know me) how uncomfortable the cooling vomit in my bra was, and she sent me into a waiting room with some towels.
Molly is my third child, and I STILL never remember to bring her a change of clothes when I take her out of the house. I was lucky I had a diaper in my purse.
I thought we were waiting there for the doc, but the nurse came and called me back to another waiting room. They apologized, and, by then, Molly's temp was lower. When they finally took it, 30some minutes later, it was 102 something.
The pediatrician doesn't think the stuff on Molly's mouth is herpes, but she saw another sore inside Molly's mouth that she DOES think is herpes, and that this is probably herpes. Damnit. Or more Hand foot and mouth, but she doesn't think Molly would be this fucked up by HFM, which we are all veterans of by now. Plus, it's only mouth and no hands/foot.
Ugh. Damnit. Fuck. Fuckers. Fuckass fuckwads fuckity. And that was my last clean bra. And I have to get a sub for working at Frank's school AGAIN tomorrow. We're going to give Molly acyclovir. She has lost more weight, and the pediatrician says it will probably be a week or two before she gets her appetite back.
It was a strange and confusing appointment. So it's probably herps. I just want to lie in bed. I am so sad. Why are my kids always sick? Why doesn't our doctor want to figure it out? I keep thinking that wait until May, when Mimi can see the GI re celiac, but probably he will order more tests, which will take more months. Just like Mimi's hearing. I'm so frustrated by all this. I hate sickness.
I hate their waiting room. My standard same-day appointment is at 10:30. I get there at 10:20, sit in the waiting room until 11:40, sit in the exam room until noon, and then get a 5-minute visit, wait for scrip/shots, and race to get Frank from school at 12:25.
I was scared for Molly - she's lethargic again today, has a fever...again... and I was freaked out about the herps. So Cory took Frank to school so I could insist on an earlier appointment and hopefully have less delay.
We go to the doctor frequently these days, and we wait FOREVER.
Twice though, Frank's had head injuries when they've taken us right in, before everyone with appointments. Once, it was after they closed, but the doctor was still there. Once, when Mimi was little at daycare she had a fever shoot up over 105 and couldn't be roused, and the doctor sat in with us to keep an eye on her in the middle of the day. Otherwise, all 3 times, we would have had to go to the ER.
So, I understand the waiting. Their costs are low, especially for where we live, and our doctor is compassionate and caring. She has a wicked memory for details.
I got a 9:15 appointment, but the head of the practice is out, so our ped had double patients. Luckily, I only had Molly in the waiting room, and she was so listless that she just put her head down on my shoulder. I didn't want to touch anything, so I didn't sit down. Some dad, whose daughter was a week younger than Molly and easily twice her size decided to run down all the ways his daughter was more fabulous than mine. I could tell she was his first baby. He was giving me tips on helping Molly learn to walk. Clearly, he couldn't tell by the pain in our faces that Molly was hurting and to shut the fuck up. Was I ever that obnoxious? I'm sure. And still am.
So Molly looked at woefully during his diatribe and thew up inside my polo shirt, right into my industrial-strength bra, which held it like a baggie would. The receptionist went and got me & Mo scrubs to change into, but, as Molly was too limp to stand or sit, we couldn't change. I went behind the door, thinkinging they would give us a room, but we just stood there for 20 minutes, soaking in puke. Molly was scalding, too, and I tried to get someone to take her temp right then, but they kept telling me it would just be a minute.
Finally, I told one of the nurses (they all know me) how uncomfortable the cooling vomit in my bra was, and she sent me into a waiting room with some towels.
Molly is my third child, and I STILL never remember to bring her a change of clothes when I take her out of the house. I was lucky I had a diaper in my purse.
I thought we were waiting there for the doc, but the nurse came and called me back to another waiting room. They apologized, and, by then, Molly's temp was lower. When they finally took it, 30some minutes later, it was 102 something.
The pediatrician doesn't think the stuff on Molly's mouth is herpes, but she saw another sore inside Molly's mouth that she DOES think is herpes, and that this is probably herpes. Damnit. Or more Hand foot and mouth, but she doesn't think Molly would be this fucked up by HFM, which we are all veterans of by now. Plus, it's only mouth and no hands/foot.
Ugh. Damnit. Fuck. Fuckers. Fuckass fuckwads fuckity. And that was my last clean bra. And I have to get a sub for working at Frank's school AGAIN tomorrow. We're going to give Molly acyclovir. She has lost more weight, and the pediatrician says it will probably be a week or two before she gets her appetite back.
It was a strange and confusing appointment. So it's probably herps. I just want to lie in bed. I am so sad. Why are my kids always sick? Why doesn't our doctor want to figure it out? I keep thinking that wait until May, when Mimi can see the GI re celiac, but probably he will order more tests, which will take more months. Just like Mimi's hearing. I'm so frustrated by all this. I hate sickness.