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The House That Streptococcal Built and Other Tales of Bedside Manner

Posted Oct 13 2009 10:01pm

Teenage Mutant Ninja

A Self Portrait at Thirteen

At ten, she was diagnosed with strep throat, nine times and was my only kid to have gone through surgery, twice, and well, did I mention she was born on a Wednesday?

"Yes, it's positive, your son has strep throat."

My ten-year-old son, however, is not a very good patient.

"I...[snorf]...hate...[cough]...that...[snorf]...swab...[cough]...thing!"

Me, either.

"Sorry, Mrs. Thompson, but we're all out of lollipops!"

DAMMIT!

"That's okay, our pediatrician is our usual supplier."

However, her office is anywhere from a fifteen minute to half-an-hour car drive away and, well, I decided to take my son down the road to the Doctor's Office, save myself the aggravation of dealing with Friday afternoon traffic and be back in time to pick up my youngest daughter from school.

[phone rings]

DAMMIT!  I didn't recognize the number, so I let it go to voicemail (you think that sucks, I understand) but, little did I know, my thirteen-year-old daughter and I were about to bond on a very intimate level.

"There's an emergency!"

Aaaaand, I couldn't be any more surprised if I woke up in the morning with my head sewn to George Clooney's carpet, or something like that.

"How come these people don't look like the people on ER? Of course, me either..."

You can catch the rest of our emergency room drama on Twitter!

Long story, short (you're welcome) my middle girl suffers from Pilonidal Disease  and -- although, my son was also treated for a pilonidal cyst and fully recovered from surgery when he was 14 months old -- unfortunately, my daughter's condition is much more complicated and, well, she's got what her surgeon says, "is the one you don't want!"

Grrrreat.

"Can I speak to you, alone?"

Heads up parents with younger kids -- in case of an emergency, doctors may want to speak to you, alone, you know, like, without you in the room, with them and, well, it's best to just go quietly.

"Of course; don't worry, baby, Mommy will be right back."

So as not to scare your child any more than she (or, he) is, already.

"No, I meant, speak to your daughter, alone."

[eyes go wide]

"Oh...uh...oooookay."

Heads up emergency room residents -- parents may want to hit you on the head, hard, you know, like, with a bed pan, or something, since their nerves are, most likely, pretty much frazzled, seeing as it IS the emergency room and all.

"You can come back in, now."

Riiiiight.

"We're going to try a few things, here."

Four hours (yes, like, the number 4) and three residents, later.

"You can go home, now."

Long story, short (you're welcome, I'm sure!) the poor kid was poked, picked, prodded, pinched and practically humiliated into believing that she would remain a freak show, for life.

"I...[snorf]...hate...[cough]...this...[snorf]...so...[cough]...much!"

Me, too.

"It's a good thing they were able to take care of it, without surgery, right?"

Riiiiight.

"But, what happens when I start dating someone?"

[eyes go wide]

"Um, didn't we have this conversation...already?"

Seriously, I think we did.

"NO!  I mean, YES!  But, what if no one is going to want to, you know?"

[sound of crickets chirping]

"You know...BE with me?"

OH, that, CRAP!

"Well, then, you know will just have to wait until the right, you know, comes along and, you know, it won't matter, anyway."

Aaaaand, I couldn't be any more surprised, SHE ACTUALLY GOT THAT, if I woke up in the morning with, you know, George Clooney.

Later, the next morning.

"Boy, they really asked me some stupid questions in the emergency room."

Oh yeah. I forgot about that.

"Like what?"

But, since SHE was the one to bring it up.

"Like, if I'm sexually active or not."

Heads up to parents with younger kids -- your kids may choose to speak to you, you know, about stuff, like, you know, with them and, well, it's best to make sure you don't have any food (or, drink) in your mouth, I'm just saying.

"Mom, are you alright?"

Grrrreat!

"I...[snorf]...just...[cough]...miss...[snorf]...George...[cough]...Clooney!"

[blank stare]

"Who?"

[heavy sigh]

I guess, at least, I SHOULD BE glad my Gynecologist doesn't look like him -- especially, she's a woman -- now THAT would be ugly!

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© 2009  This Full House  - All Rights Reserved.


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