**Warning** The following post contains discussion of bodily fluids and functions. It is not intended for those who may be squeamish, or perhaps not for those who have not have close contact with small children for extended periods of time. You have been warned.
Just as we have washed the medicine droppers, and put away the fever chillers from Smaller Child's sickness, LARGER Child begins to show symptoms of a fun new illness.
For about five days now, Larger Child has been sick with some sort of stomach gunk. Over the past week, he has spent more time in the bathroom than his father would with a new magazine and a fully charged iPad. He has gone through about four rolls of toilet paper... if you get my drift. Do you get it? Do you understand? HE'S GOT THE POOPS!
The poor kid can't even make it through a meal. A trip to the grocery store resulted in a 5 time photo finish to the mens room. I know he feels awful, I know it is annoying and frustrating, and exhausting. So, today, Beautiful Bald Husband and I made the executive decision to keep him home and send him to the doctor.
This may have sounded like a no-brainer for most of you, but he has had many strange illnesses over the years. He has had many many trips to the doctor, and nearly EVERY time they say he is fine, it will pass.. etc etc etc. So, we try to hold out these days, knowing this will probably be the result. BUT, a five day long poopapaloza warrants a trip to the doc, ifffen you ask me.
Then there was the other side of this, the sweet LC side. He had been waiting ALL school year (all 12 days of it) to be the classroom helper, and TODAY was HIS day. He was so devastated to miss class he spent the better part of a half an hour this morning with his face buried in a pillow sobbing. I did manage to convince him that Momma and Daddy were not doing it to be mean, and we needed to figure out what was wrong and get him well. He managed to sulk his way out of the bed, and I sent an email to his teacher filling her in on what was going on. I even included the previous anecdote as a "isn't that sweet, don't we just love how much he loves school" story.
So, on the ride to the doctor, this child who has been maybe seven or eight too many times begins to ask questions... the kind of questions that make it clear he is getting nervous about what may happen. I had to convince him both that he would not be getting shots, and that there was no need for them to swab his throat for a tummy ache quickly to avoid the panic I was beginning to detect in his voice. The nurse checked his vitals, weight, height, made a joke about roller coasters (which set him off on a story about a recent trip to Frontier City), and we waited for the doctor.
(Side Note: All the time that Brother was getting checked out, you could see the recall and concern in Smaller Child's face. He kept a VERY close eye on the situation. Snacks wouldn't even distract him. I couldn't tell if it was concern for Brother, or if it was to make sure that Lady in the Scrubs wasn't coming near him!)
The doctor came in, talked for a bit, listened to his stomach, and poked and prodded around. He then told me that it wouldn't be food poisoning, or it wouldn't have lasted this long. It may be a virus, but it hasn't spread, and it is lasting pretty long for that too. He said that he suggested checking out a stool sample, and then if it comes back clean (a pretty subjective word in that case) and he is still having issues in a week, they would send him to a gastroenterologist. Then I heard LC begin to breath deep. I smiled and reassured him that none of that was scary, and once he learned what a "stool sample was" and contained his giggles, he was okay.
We went by the lab, collected our supplies for the sample and started back home. On the way, I explained what a GI doctor was. I said it was a big scary name for a tummy doctor. I then explained that just because they may have a big scary name, they are not a big scary doctor, and used Momma's rheumatologist as an example. I think this relieved him. I forget sometimes that even though he may talk and act like a 30 year old, he is still just a child, with things he doesn't understand, experiences he hasn't had, and fears he may not know how to handle. It was a good reminder to be mindful of his tender heart, and remember he may still need me once in a while after all.
Once the anxiety of being at the doctor wore off, he began to chatter. First he told me how great of a doctor's visit that was. When I asked him why, he said, "I just went in, got to find out how tall I was and how much I weigh. Then I played with toys until the doctor came in to tickle my belly. Then I got a sticker for it, and I left!" Can't argue with that! Ha!
Somehow we got in to a discussion about Bob Marley. He asked me, "Why wouldn't he shoot the deputy? I mean, if he were to shoot the sheriff and leave the deputy, wouldn't the deputy kill him?" I said, "Good point. Not very smart, huh?" "Nope."
Not five minutes after we made the half an hour long drive home, LC tells me, "Mom, I have to poop." Joy. Faaantastic. This was one of those moments where I wanted to call in my stunt double. I wanted to tap out and tag my fellow wrestler in. That is when I look around and realize that, nope... it's just me. Pull on my rubber gloves, take my last clean breath, and do what needs to be done.
Yeah, that happened. I may never be the same.
So, we all pile BACK in to the car and head back to the doctor, with fresh sample in hand, and a little less dignity and grace. On the way, I got an email from LC's teacher responding that she was so sorry to hear he was sick, thanked me for letting her know, and told me to assure him that he will get the opportunity to be the "helper" on Monday. This lead in to a fabulous conversation about how when we let go of trying to control things, release and do what we know is right, it will ALWAYS work out the way it is suppose to. I love being able to teach some great life lessons in daily experiences. It seems to help, and he can recall on these past experiences later.
When we got to the doctor, we were about to get out of the car, and LC stopped me. "Mom, wait! When will we get this back?" I about fell over. I had to compose myself before responding, so I didn't embarrass him. "Never. They are going to keep it forever. Put it on a shelf with your name in neon." (Face paled, chin dropped) "NO, I'm kidding... Well dear, do you want IT back? They will just study it, run some tests on it, and then get rid of it." "Oh, okay." We dropped off the specimen, and went home.
That was my day. How was yours?
No comments:
Post a Comment