If you have been following my blogs, you know that we have been a bit health "challenged" this fall.
The youngest two children were diagnosed with the nauseatingly hyped H1N1 virus in September.
I am suspicious that the oldest one had a bout of it, too. But he is the "healthy one" in the family, and rarely complains about being sick. It has to be a super bug to take him down.
He had felt sick for several days. Each day of which he would ask to stay home from school. My response was kissing him on the forehead, a la Glennda GoodWitch, to feel if there was any heat. There was not.
After the fourth day of this, much to his surprise, his request to stay home from school was granted by me as I was half asleep.
"You're staying in bed ALL day," I said, then rolled over and fell back asleep.
"Uh, did you tell Calvin that he could stay home from school today," Chris asked when I stumbled out into the kitchen an hour or so later to fetch me some coffee.
Hot damn. As a matter of fact, I did ~ the memory was foggy as if that of a dream.
"I told him he had to stay in bed all day," I told Chris.
He pointed to the lump on the couch with its feet up, watching Spongebob Squarepants.
"No," I said. "No, no, no, no, no! If you are sick, you go back to bed. There is no Spongebob when you are home sick!"
I was assaulted with arguments about what his 8 year old brother was able to do with when he was home sick. I pointed out that Wesley was home from school for a total of five days and after the first three, we were utterly broken and desperate. Thus, we were willing to fudge on the Xbox rules, just to keep him quiet.
Wes was home again one day last week after he stumbled into our bedroom at 2:00am one night, sobbing. Apparently his right ear hurt. I can't imagine what that must feel like, but I am sure it must suck monkey butt.
I gave him some ibuprofen and let him sleep on our floor that night. The doctor confirmed it the next day ~ he had an ear infection.
And then there was little Miss Maggie.
With each year that passes I am becoming more and more conservative about immunizations.
This is mainly because I am developing what I believe is a healthy skepticism about how much doctors really know. As in, I am not sure that they know as much as the general public gives them credit for.
In my opinion, people look at those individuals with the letters "M.D." after their names with an undo amount of veneration. Subsequently the words/advice that come out of their mouths are deified and taken with blind faith.
I think it is dangerous. I could go on and on, but I like to keep my blog light.
For this reason, I had been dreading Maggie's 15 month checkup ~ so much so that I scheduled it two months late. I was ready for a fight: the bare ass minimum on the immunizations, please, and absolutely no flu shots.
Although we are far from an "organic" family, I am feeling that the line between absolutely necessary and hype and hysteria has become rather blurry.
The stress that I had about the checkup was moot because the cough that had lingered since the H1N1 diagnosis was getting worse. The nose was starting to run and her little cheeks were beginning to flush. Indeed, she had an ear infection.
So, two of the children are currently on antibiotics.
Oh ~ we recently discovered that Publix does not charge for amoxicillian, yo. Take that and suck it Walgreens, spawn of satan and owners of the vaccuus drive thrus that cars get stuck in, only to pull up to the window 40 minutes later to find out they don't have the prescription ready.
This snippet of information has been highly, highly helpful to us this fall, both monetarily and stress-wise. We will never go back to the dark side, a.k.a. Walgreens.
It is my turn tomorrow and I am shi**ing bricks.
I am seeing a doctor that I don't know from a hole in the wall. Aside from a few favorable, yet vague, reviews online I know nothing about this guy except he is one of the few doctors in the area that a.) takes our insurance, and b.) would see me before December.
I am going to be praying that he doesn't say too much about my weight, which is never a helpful thing.
The weight battle was waged during two of my three pregnancies: the first and the third. It is ironic that the only pregnancy that weight was never mentioned once is the one that I gained only 30 pounds during. With the others I was hounded about the weight I was gaining, therefore, stressed, I gained sixty pounds with each.
I just believe that a doctor should never tell a fat person, especially a woman, that she is fat. She is already full aware of this every time she goes shopping for new clothes or stands in front of the mirror naked every morning.
She doesn't need a doctor to remind her of this. Ever.
Alas, I am needlessly worrying, which is something I do best.
I hope to report to you tomorrow evening that it was uneventful and pleasant. It already has a twinge of awesomeness to it because one of our members from church is coming over to watch Maggie.
Read: I am getting a mini break from the baby. A spa trip and/or a massage would be greatly preferable over a doctor's appointment.
But hey, beggars can't be choosers and I will take whatever I can get.