It’s like when you go to the store for milk and bread only to come out with $200 worth of groceries…

The call came at 7:20 this morning.  J fell getting out of the bus.  He landed on his butt.  He was fine, even got up in a hurry and looking around as if to say “I hope no one saw that.”  The bus driver let me know so that I could call the teacher, who was taking him to the school nurse.  In quick succession, the driver called me, TGG called while I was on the phone with the driver, I called the teacher, I called Dada, I called the teacher again and off to Urgent Care we went.

J was uncomfortable.  He was shifting in his seat, trying to get into a position that wouldn’t be unpleasant.  They attempted an ice pack…I don’t need to be told how THAT went.  We got to Urgent Care shortly after 8 a.m. and within five minutes we were in an examination room.  J was uncomfortable; he used his Proloquo2Go to tell the nurse’s assistant that he had A LITTLE PAIN.  Vitals were taken, and he was not happy with the pressure cuff, but he tolerated the whole thing rather well.  After a few minutes in came the Nurse Practitioner.

The first thing that made us go HUH????!!!! was “when did his fever start?”  Fever?  J had a fever?  Yup…J had a 102 temperature, and -come to think of it- he looked a little flushed and tired.  I had noticed a runny nose this morning, but he was so jolly and enthusiastic about going to school that I thought it was just, you know, any ol’ runny nose.

Long story short: X-rays indicate he didn’t break anything in his fall, and the flu and sinus infection swabs came back clean, but they’ve ordered cultures from those and prescribed an antibiotic because, well, he has a fever of 102.  Getting him to lay down for X-rays was impossible (EVERYONE at Urgent Care heard him) so they took them while he stood up.  He insisted on going to the bathroom four times in quick succession, not because anything was wrong with him but because that’s his hiding place, where he can prolong being seen by any medical personnel.

J’s trips to the bathroom alternated with requests for his jacket, our jacket, keys, purse.  We had to negotiate waiting, and he was gracious about it…for the most part.  At one point he started hitting his knee with a fist.  As cool as a cucumber, I told him that I could arrange for more X-rays if he kept up with the self-injury.  He gave me a dirty look and stopped.  One point for me…that’s better than no point for me.  In spite of his unwillingness to enjoy all the attention he was getting, J used his Proloquo to let the NP know where it hurt, how he felt and that he was DONE with the visit.  He thanked her profusely when we were allowed to leave.  She was impressed with how well the app played into the whole process.  He recognized the stethoscope, sphygmomanometer, and even asked if he was going to get a shot.  There was a great deal of relief expressed when we told him NO, no shot this time around.

Dada dashed out to the car to get J’s hats because, in the rush to get him into Urgent Care before too many patients showed up, we had left them in his bag.  We peeled layers from his body (he was wearing his hoodie and his regular jacket) and gave him the comfort of his scrum cap and Rasta hat.  We played music for him while we waited (and why he is fixated on Blossom Dearie‘s recording of To Keep My Love Alive is beyond me.  This song is from A Connecticut Yankee and is about how Morgana Le Fay is often married because she is often widowed…and she’s the one who kills the husbands.)   He played with a new app he got the other day which lets him put puzzles together.  We talked to him.  We encouraged him.  We took the many trips to the bathroom and then said NO MORE.  He understood that.  He understood NO, J.  YOU ARE FINISHED WITH THE BATHROOM.  NOW WE WAIT, AND THEN WE GO HOME.  He didn’t like being told this, but he understood and accepted it…

We were there for about an hour, and now we are home.  Our instructions are to give him the antibiotic twice a day for ten days.  They said if the flu culture comes back positive they can give him Tamiflu, but that the effects of that won’t be all they’re cracked up to be and it might just be best to let him rest and recover at the usual pace.  I’d really rather not give him the Tamiflu if I can help it.

We are now at home.  J is wearing his cozy jammies and watching TV in the living room.  He let me put some Tiger Balm on his lower back, and actually seemed to be soothed by the warmth of it.  The antibiotic will come into play this evening, after the pharmacy has filled the prescription and Dada and TGG have collected it from them.  Liquid Tylenol, which has been prescribed for his aches and pains, will be harder to come by, but we can always try to find it in three different places by the house.

We went in for a fall and came out with something a little more complicated.  That’s the way it works, though.  That’s what parenting is.  You plan a day curled up on the couch reading and the phone rings…

At least this time it wasn’t as bad as all that, and it wasn’t even what we thought it was to start with…

Life if nothing if not interesting…



2 thoughts on “It’s like when you go to the store for milk and bread only to come out with $200 worth of groceries…

    • I am so glad we got that for him, and that he’s feeling more and more comfortable telling us what he wants, needs, feels, etc. The guessing game, for the most part, is over…huge relief. I only wish this type of technology had been as accessible when he was younger.

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