Our world is crazy.. we are non-stop, on the go 24-7. My husband is convinced that I sit around all day and watch reruns of CSI or something, but in actuality, today is the first time that I’ve sat in one seat {edited to add: a seat that is *not* in a vehicle!} long enough for the cushion to get warm.
Last week I had the hell scared out of me, almost killed a dentist, and almost kissed a doctor. Here’s how it started…
Little Bear hasn’t been feeling good since before we moved. We’ve been dealing with insurance crap- {which is a whole other blog post} – so I wasn’t able to bring him to a doctor to get checked out. Thankfully, he’s a pretty healthy kid, no fevers, no sicknesses, I don’t even think he’s ever been on antibiotics. Anyway, the insurance was finally active, so I called my pediatrician to have a check-up.
“What are his symptoms?”
“Well, he’s fine, except he’s tired.. much more placid than my other two, and other kids his age- but then there’s days where he’s fine.”
I’m pretty certain at this point, the 20 something year old kidless receptionist is rolling her eyes at me. We go to the appointment, he’s checked out, he’s fine. Doc orders some labs, just because we’re behind on “routine” labs. Three days after our visit- BAM- the baby has a fever. It’s Monday, so I don’t want to take him for labs, especially if he’s miserable, has a fever, etc.. so I delay it.
He gets a high fever, and it becomes hard to break. I call our pediatrician back, and he’s seen again on Thursday. They give him a flu swab, and a strep culture, and everything comes back normal. Our doc agrees that I did the right thing by waiting for his labs, but recommends that he gets them done as soon as he’s feeling better, just to make sure there’s nothing going on.
PS, there’s no red flags anything major could be wrong.
Sunday, Little Bear is finally starting to feel better, so I decide to watch him on Monday and make sure he’s better-better, and then I’ll take him in on Tuesday for his labs. Monday evening I made something with ground beef, and during our bedtime routine, I clean his teeth. Well, I saw ‘ground beef’ stuck in between his teeth, so I took a wipe, and gently pulled it free. It began to gush blood. Seriously, it didn’t stop for like 2 full minutes, and I was having a borderline panic attack. It wasn’t meat, it was his gums. In fact, his whole gums between his teeth was red and a little bit swollen. I thought I did this, and cried with him, apologizing for hurting him, and making him bleed.
Wednesday, I’m on the phone with my spiritual mom venting about how swollen Little Bear’s gums are, and how I have to cut every bite of food into microscopic pieces for him to eat because he’s in so much discomfort, and that he’s going in for a recheck on Friday when the big kids go for their physicals… and she says, did you try calling the dentist? DUH!
I totally didn’t, so I called them Thursday morning, and they give me an appointment for him and Moose Friday morning.
I kept the big kids home from school that day because they had their check ups plus, Little Bear had never seen a dentist, so I knew that it would be better if he got to see the dentist messing with Moose’s mouth, too.
So, we go through the drive through and get breakfast, not remembering the last time we had the same thing, Moose got motion sick.
Sure enough, ten minutes from the dentist, Moose gets motion sick, and throws up all over his lap, and my car. To make matters worse, the baby bag, with the wipes, diapers for the day, snacks, and cups Moose left at home after I handed it to him.
GAAAAAAAH!
Now, to picture this you need to realize that I’m not a small lady. I’m almost 6 feet tall, and wear plus size, *real* plus size clothing. I pulled into a Kmart, locked them in and pulled a super market sweep. I ran, literally, into the store, over to home cleaning products, grabbed paper towels, clorox wipes, then turned, headed towards the men’s department, grabbed the first pair of shorts in Moose’s size with a belt, and then took off sprinting to the baby department to grab wipes and diapers.
I get to the register and have Grandma Gerty check me out.. she wants to talk to me, and I just want to pay, and change my kid out of pukey clothes. Now she starts talking to me about the weather, and I’m trying to be polite and just smile, nod, and get ready to sprint out to the parking lot, because I was going to be early, but now I’ll be on time if I can pull out in three minutes, and she’s still going on about the weather! Finally, she stops speaking long enough to ask me how I want the receipt.. what?!.. and I snap, regular?.. and she looks at me like I’m the most disrespectful twit in the universe. So I snatch the bag, and take off running out the door like I stole the entire jewelry department, to my minivan.
Pumpkin whips open the door with an utter look of disgust, excited that I’m finally back {I was in the store a whopping 5 minutes} and she climbs to the front to give her brother some privacy. I make my 11 year old drop his drawers in the middle of the van, with his feet in the shopping bag, so his yucky clothes go right into the bag. I clean him and the car up the best way I can, make him throw on the shorts, sit in Pumpkin’s seat, and then fly out of the parking lot to the dentist.
The dentist goes well, until we get to Little Bear. Without getting into it, she basically poked his gums, they started bleeding and then she freaked me out completely insinuating that my baby had leukemia. She tells me that I should leave there and immediately get his labs done, and that even if his labs came back normal, she wanted me to see a gum specialist in Gainesville.. {which is in bumble.. I think it’s 6 hours away?!} so off I go to promptly get labs, and see what our fate is.
I stop at a walgreens to appropriately disinfect my back seat, call my husband, then my spiritual mom, and ask for prayers. I fly back up to my neck of the woods, stop off at my house, unload the nasty clothes into the washer, grab the carpet cleaner for my floor in my minivan, a towel, and then head to the lab. I unload the kids, spray the floor, and we go in.
Little Bear handles it like a champ, we reload the car, go get lunch, and head to the pediatrician. Now I begin to freak out. As we eat lunch, I’m googling. Googling. Why?! Never, ever google when you’re in a situation like this– trust me!
I get to my pediatrician, and my favorite medical assistant is behind the desk, takes one look at me and asks me what’s going on. I give her the readers digest version, and her head begins to spin as she freaks out for me, and starts dialing lab corp to see if there’s any news yet, since it’s been 4 hours.. even though the lab says 24-48 hours. Did I mention that I’m still freaking out?! No news.
We see the doctor, she gives the two big kids their physicals, they’re both amazing. She consoles me, and tells me that we’ll figure it out, and that she’s not happy with the way the dentist handled things earlier in the day. I just keep repeating that I just need to know if our life is going to change. They try lab corp one more time, and still nothing.
I head home. I’m numb. I’m pissed. I’m sad. I’m angry. I cry. I’m numb. Repeat.
I don’t remember Friday or much of Saturday. Until my doctor called at 3:45 pm.. and my heart stopped for just a moment.
How amazing it was hearing my pediatrician tell me that his labs came back perfect, and that he did not have leukemia. I praised God, thanked her, and told her that I loved her. I hung up the phone, and started dialing everyone that I knew was praying for us, everyone who loves us, and everyone who asked for an update. It was the best half hour ever, as we shared the good news, and rejoiced!
Little Bear’s gums got better. Saturday night he took a bite of a whole piece of food without saying “ow”, and by Sunday, they were not swollen at all. We have no idea what caused it, and are thankful that it wasn’t something serious. Until we figure it out we will remain Completely Puzzled.