The Sick Visit

Had I written about this earlier, like I wanted to, the title was going to be, "The Diarrhea In the Fridge." No, it was not by accident. It was in a little plastic baggie awaiting a trip to the doctor's. Jacob's had diarrhea for a week and a half now. I was treating it the way you're supposed to so I hadn't really needed to consult the doctor's office, but it was getting to be a bit much. So I called today and they told me to come on in. Might not sound like a big deal, but Jacob had never had a sick visit to the doctor. We had a great streak going. Other moms would stare at me wide-eyed in amazement when I told them. "Must be all the breastfeeding," we'd joke. It was a nice little thing to brag about; something to show for keeping my neurosis in check. Damn.

Thank God we don't have to do this a lot because boy was it a production. I had to close at work and my mom was watching Jacob so she and Jamie, along with Marisa, drove out at closing time, helped me clean the place and leave on time, and then my mom came along so she could tell me how to get there (because with only 10 minutes to spare, that was easier than talking me through how to get there from where we were).

Jacob was really good while we were there and I think he really liked the attention. I talked all about the G.I. stuff and brought up a couple other things because hey, if I'm paying a $25 co-pay I want to get my money's worth. Even though it was for Jacob's health, it was painful to write that check...that's how cheap I am. Seriously, the doctor concluded that it's a virus, which is what I have been saying all along, and there's really nothing we can do about it but wait. Fine with me, I just would have rather been told that on the phone, for free. I have to admit though, that I love the laid-back attitude of my doctor's office. Ordinarily I would hesitate to call with a question about Jacob's health because I'd be afraid they'd be all too quick to just tell me to bring him in. Cha-ching. But they're pretty good about talking-down the nervous mom. So I need'nt be concerned with debating whether to call or not as it's unlikely I'll be chancing it that they tell me to come in when I don't really want to shell out the $25.

One of the other things I was asking about was the leg cramps Jacob gets at night; the ones where he kicks the shit of out me trying to get them to go away. "Low iron?" the doctor and I hypothesized. That means having blood drawn. Poor little guy was so brave (me - not so brave - good thing my mom was there). He kept the strong face on while the pretty nurse slowly sucked the courage out of him. To be honest, I think he was in shock, and then when we were back out in the waiting room, the adrenaline leaving his system, Jacob just sobbed and sobbed. A few minutes later he bucked up just long enough to confess that, "That weally huwt..." before breaking down again.

Back at home I offered him some medicine, which he happily agreed to. "But the good kind," he ordered, meaning 'not Benadryl', i.e. the kind parents secretly hope their kids are sick enough for from time to time. Well, with our first sick visit over with I can only hope now that Jacob never needs antibiotics, just so I'll still have something brag about.