Boo had to go to the Pleasantville Urgent Care place yesterday because she had trouble opening her jaw once again. Some mothers might see this as a golden opportunity for a break from their wee ones, but we have enough trouble hearing what Boo has to say as it is, without throwing any more adversity into the mix. The last time this happened the guy at the Urgent Care place thought it might be a blocked saliva gland and prescribed a three-times-daily antibiotic. I don’t know about anybody else, but I’m not organized enough to EAT three times daily, much less remember to administer an antibiotic that makes Boo gag every time she swallows it. And for some reason the more unpleasant I find a task, the less likely I am to perform it to perfection, go figure. So I was not looking forward to going back to the Urgent Care.
After our requisite hour of waiting with people sitting in my personal space bubble, either coughing their death rattle coughs or bleeding profusely all over the waiting room periodicals, we finally were granted access to the inner sanctum of the examination area. I recognized the exam room as the one I’ve been in almost a half dozen times this year already, and I waited patiently until our Doc-of-the-Day came in. You know it’s a bad sign when the random doctor assigned to your wee one’s case walks in the room and looks at you (it’s not your chart in his hand, after all), and says, “I know you!”. What you really want to ask him is if he remembers what it is you came in for, because he’s the doctor that saw you when you had the horrible bladder infection. It’s not so much WHAT you had that is embarrassing, so much as all the details you told him to make sure you ruled out any other horrific girl problems that it could have been, because all you knew at the time was that peeing made you want to cry. A bladder infection sounded like such a normal problem for that amount of pain.
Doc-of-the-Day turned his attention to Boo and pronounced her problem as teeth-grinding related, and suggested Motrin to alleviate the pain. Yeay! And then Doc-of –the-Day took his service WAY past compliance with the Hippocratic Oath and talked to Boo about Harry Potter (which she is completely obsessed with). “Do you have all the books?” he asked my little sunshine of sweetness. “All of them except the 6th one” she said innocently. “Well then let me bring that one in for you tomorrow,” said Doc-of-the-Day, thereby turning himself into a hero for my little Luna-Boo. And can you believe this? I just called the Pleasantville Urgent Care facility, and Doc-of-the-Day DID remember to bring that particular book in today. I’m thinking that the karmic wheel of fortune has REALLY decided to make things easier on us this year, recognizing of course that last year left me feeling particularly beat up at the end of it all. So I am on my way out the door to go pick up one Harry Potter book six from the doc, tonight I need to pack for my trip, and tomorrow after work I will be dropping two children and two bicycles off at Grandma’s for four days of staying up way past their bedtime and eating cereal with chocolate milk on it, all so I can go away for four days with my Favorite Grown Up Person, Scott. We are going to a Blues Festival in Eastern Washington, renting a house with a ton of people Scott knows through work, and enjoying being with each other. NOW do you see why I don’t think things could get any better? This is bliss.