There is a good reason that I am not a nurse. Actually there are several. It turns out that in my old age, I am not very fond of vomit or blood or feces or... touching people. I've heard many parents say, "Oh, it is SO different when it is your child." Um not for this girl. I've yet to pick up a dirty kleenex or change a diaper and feel the love. Mostly, it is just a lot of dry heaving.
I had to take Kelan to the pediatrician this week. Again. Because he has had a sinus infection that keeps coming back. He woke up with a fever and I just made an appointment. It's actually pretty cool not to have a baby anymore. I've learned all of the fun tricks now. Instead of being the "good client" and asking for a nurse, I just call the scheduling department and tell them I want him to be seen. Before, I would always sweetly ask for a nurse who would give me a hundred question quiz before telling me to schedule an appointment (It's the parent/nurse equivilant of that IT department that you have to first go through that asks you if your computer isn't working because you forgot to plug it in or turn it on). Let me tell you, they always do end up telling you to schedule, because they don't want to be the one who gets sued if a kid dies.
So anyway, I took him in and enjoyed the awesomeness that is trying to occupy a three-year-old in a 5 by 5 room. Which, on a side note, is even worse than it was for parents a generation ago, because now they have stopped putting toys anywhere because GERMS! and THE FLU! and DEATH!!!!! Apparently they are all against kids building immunities these days.
Just at about the point where I'm about to sneak out and pretend I was never there, the pediatrician comes in. I really like ours because she is good at acting like everything happens all the time. I swear we could bring him in bleeding out of the ears and she would calmly say, "Ah, yeah, I've seen this a hundred times, my kids had it twice, here's your script!" She looked up his nose and declared that it was a sinus infection.
But just when I was ready to tell her which Walgreens and run away, she totally threw me for a loop, "Does he pee on command?" she asked, "I think I'm going to take a urine sample just in case." Uhhhh. and before I could say "Come again?" a nurse was at the door. She thrust a cup in my hand and says "Ok, we'll just need a small sample, and make sure to and I quote, 'wipe the tip' with an antibacterial wipe beforehand" (she was very cheery about the whole ordeal), and then she just walked away. SHE WALKED AWAY!!!
And once again, I'm starting to research child psychiatrists because I'm sure he is scarred for life by the experience. Actually it wasn't so bad. Once I picked my jaw up off the floor and bribed him with a popsicle, everything was fine. I even made it through that awkward moment standing outside of a bathroom holding urine praying that I don't give it to the wrong nurse. (When will they learn to stick around a bathroom?)
Once again. These are the things they leave out of the "What to Expect" books.
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