April 20, 2008

I’m pretty sure the pharmacist thinks I have a crush on him

Charlie is sick; he ran a fever all day yesterday and was up three or four times in the night. At 4:30 am, I decided that he had strep throat and called the triage line to get us on the list for the Sunday morning clinic at our pediatrician’s office.

By 7:00 am, Charlie was feeling fine; he ate two pancakes for breakfast and brushed his teeth and let Wade do something about his gigantic floppy mess of hair. We went off to the doctor and waited in the hall for half an hour, while Charlie played with my iPhone and was generally cute and charming and healthy-acting.

I felt like crap, of course, but the boy seemed to be just fine.

Fortunately (hahaha) his throat culture came back positive, proving that even on three hours sleep I really DO know what I’m doing here (or alternatively proving that paranoia pays off, at least some of the time). And now, of course, the kid is miserable again, but at least he is loaded with antibiotics and will be feeling better tomorrow.

You know, when I take him to get a new cast on his broken arm.

(Do you know what the coolest thing about the Sunday morning clinic is?  When you’re one of only two patients in the office, the doctor lets you see her do the throat culture, the part where she puts the enzymes in the test tube and swishes the swab around and then sticks the test strip in.  And then she lets you look for the two lines that say INFECTED.  Although I think I was more impressed by that than Charlie was.)

April 17, 2008

I could just Twitter this, but I will share it with you instead

Wade taught Charlie to change the toilet paper roll tonight. At Charlie’s request.

Charlie’s future wife (or life partner, let’s not be closed minded) will be delighted.

I am just kind of stunned.

April 15, 2008

a little something to take the edge off

Pharmacist: How can I help you?

Me: I called in a refill for my son, and got a message saying that the scrip can’t be filled. I’m just wondering what’s going on.

Pharmacist: Patient’s name? (Looks him up in the computer.) Oh, right! We’re all out of that.

Me: Come again?

Pharmacist: It’s on backorder at the manufacturer. We’ve been waiting about three weeks but we still haven’t gotten any. Apparently they’re just not shipping it.

Me: Okaaaaay …

Pharmacist: You can try giving him a different antihistamine, an OTC, if this is for allergies –

Me: No, see, he takes it for ANXIETY and he’s really having kind of a tough time right now and he really NEEDS his meds and OH MY GOD IS THERE ANY WAY TO FIND SOME BECAUSE WE ARE TOTALLY OUT see my husband spilled the bottle but I was out of town and my OTHER child has a broken arm and it’s been really HARD for all of us and we’re not sleeping very well and –

Pharmacist (stepping back from the counter and putting her hands up in the air in a gesture of what can only be described as alarm): Um, I’ll see what I can do.  You just … stay right there.  Okay?  Okay …

Honestly, I have no idea where Henry gets his anxiety. I cannot even imagine, can you?  You know, with such calm and cool parents.

(Still no meds. Apparently there MAY be a similar drug he can try, but the developmental pediatrician was out of the office yesterday and until we change the scrip we’re just medication free!  Woo!  Which is really not lowering MY anxiety level AT ALL. The end.)

April 11, 2008

broken is the new cool

We took Charlie back to the orthopedist today. His arm is still broken, but NOT infected, which is pretty much what we were hoping for.

He chose the red cast, and when the nurse started to wrap the red stuff around his arm, he said, “THAT IS SO COOL!” and the doctor cracked up.

When the cast was completely on, and the bones had been all straightened out AGAIN, the doctor said, “Charlie, can you wiggle your fingers?” and Charlie started wiggling the fingers on his left hand. Which is funny because it’s his RIGHT arm that is broken.

We go back on Tuesday for more X-rays and possibly a new cast, depending on how things look. And then we lather, rinse, and repeat for six to eight weeks because this is one badass break and the doctor wants to be certain that Charlie’s arm will not be permanently at a 45 degree angle, or something like that.

Although maybe lather rinse repeat isn’t the best analogy, since I still don’t know how to give the kid a bath. It’s going to be a long eight weeks if I don’t figure that out, isn’t it?

Suggestions, Internet? Because I have a five-year-old who hasn’t had his hair washed in nearly a week. And dammit if it STILL doesn’t look better than mine.

April 9, 2008

entitlement is SUCH a DRAG

Charlie is feeling substantially better today, which is both a blessing and a curse. He’s in a lot less pain, and there are no signs that a raging infection is eating away at his bones (you’re welcome!). But he’s also feeling very entitled, which I blame on his father, who apparently told him that he could have WHATEVER HE WANTED because he broke his arm. For example:

Henry: Can we watch Batman?

Charlie: I don’t want to watch Batman.

Henry: But I do!

Charlie (disdainfully): The person with the broken arm gets to choose what we watch. Daddy said so.

Good god.

Yesterday Charlie scolded me for pulling his pants up too much after he went potty; today he announced, “I would like you to go downstairs and get me something to eat. A Pop Tart, if you please.”

Last night he decided that he wanted to sort and arrange all the Playmobil. I’m all about the sorting, so I happily agreed. Unfortunately, I didn’t realize that this would mean spreading every single teeny tiny pirate and knight and gladiator out on the floor, taking ALL their armor off, and piling things into groups that only Charlie understands.

And in the middle of the mess, the Little Prince is kicked back, eating a Pop Tart and repeatedly asking, “Can we see what ELSE is on TV?  Because this is boring.”

You said it, son.

April 8, 2008

pass the Jagermeister

Tonight, Charlie ranked his medicines, just for fun. His favorite is the berry flavored Motrin, which is of course 80% sugar; second is the bubble gum flavored antibiotic, which is “kind of icky,” according to Charlie. Third is the Lortab, which is truly disgusting.

Not that I have tasted it or anything. That you know of.

I am of course relieved that the most addictive of the meds is his least favorite, although when I told Chris that I was trying to limit how much he took because it IS addictive, she said, “What’s he going to do, ride his tricycle to the corner to score more?”

Good point.

(more…)