April 14, 2014

An in-depth look at dramatic parenting

So, I feel like maybe I let you guys off a little easy the other day when I shared about my families recent bout of sickness, and maybe I need to give you some of the details. Ok, wait, I lie that's not the reason . I'm really going to put it here more for myself. I find that when I go back to blog posts that I wrote when Ransom was a baby I  often marvel at some of our truly horrific days. Its nice to remember. Mostly because of the lovely fact that I'd first forgotten . When we are in the worst of it we can hardly imagine that there will be a day where the awfulness will have worn off, but its true.

It fades.

So, in the glory of the fact that this story will fade, let me set the stage.

It was Saturday night. We'd had a busy day, a day that had started with us at the Urgent Care clinic finally getting Tabitha's health issues sorted out. We had then rushed to take my friend Adelaide to a hair appointment ( she's in town for an army course and she's currently stationed in Germany which means she doesnt have her car with her. bummer for her...which you'll soon see...), and then I had made the smart decision to take my kids home instead of going to a Ministry training event.

I must insert here that its SO crazy how different my attitude is with two kids instead of one. Poor Tabitha has had to suck it up soooo much more than Ransom. There is NO way that if Ransom had been sick for weeks and weeks and I'd just taken him to a last resort doctors appointment, that I would then leave said appointment and even CONSIDER lugging him to some event. Bless my little girls heart. She is SUCH a trooper. I admit a lot of my attitude change has not just been that I'm now a mom of two...but also the fact that Tabitha really is so incredibly easy.

But as we drove and Tabitha started to whimper from the backseat, I shot up our white flag for the day and we headed home.

The day continued....I went back and got Adelaide from her hair appointment and she came home to our house where I put the kids down for naps and I made pizza dough for future dinners, and gave the master bedroom a deep clean. Adelaide insisted that sitting around and watching me do house chores was more fun than going home. I seriously doubted it. ;-)

So skip to the evening.....I'd made snacks, herded post-nap children, I'd made dinner, and was starting to clean up from the dinner process when Ransom yelled that his ear hurt. I told him it would be ok. ( yeah, I guess my overall attitude as a parent has relaxed considerably.) I figured he was just complaining because I'd asked him to clean up his toys. But, by the time we'd sat down to watch a little movie I could tell he was not himself. At. All. He was weirdly worried by parts of the movie he'd never been worried about before. And started to complain about his ear hurting. And then he started to cry. Uncontrollably. Nothing I did could make it better. He was beyond consolling.

Brett was getting ready to go into a night shift....oh yeah, did I mention Brett was on night shifts? And thus, making me a "single mom" for pretty much 20 hours of the day. More like 22 hours of the day. But, hey, I know some rockstars who are 24 hours of the day ALWAYS. So no complaint here. I'm just sayin'. Brett was getting ready to head off to work, and Tabitha was making it known that she needed to go to bed. right then.

So in the midst of this craziness, I decided to take Ransom to the ER.  eh. not my best decision. And I can now tell  you at least 20 reasons why, but at the TIME? At the time it seemed like a good idea. Story of my life.

Oh, and my Adelaide. What a long suffering friend! She just thought that Brett was going to take her home on his way to work! Nope. Instead she headed with me and a screaming Ransom to the hospital. And by screaming I mean that ear piercing scream. The out of control animalistic scream. It was pretty intense....luckily we only live about 3 minutes from the hospital and there was a super long train parked along the road so there was some minor distracting for my screaming son...but oooooopppppppsssss.....I left my wallet in the other bag. You know, the wallet that has my all important military ID. 
Back home we go, and the screaming gets MUCH LOUDER when Ransom realizes he does NOT get to go to his bed as he is so strongly suggesting.  And then...and then the worst thing ever.
That train?
That SUPER LONG train? Parked beside the road?!  It is no longer parked. It is moving....slowly, ever so slowly across our road. Leaving us at a standstill. No closer to the hospital. A hyperventilating 3 year old in the back seat, a husband who's getting closer and closer to being really REALLY late to work waiting at home with our sick 1 year old.
This is where I may have said something I am not proud of under my breath.

But then I pulled it together and talked in my most chipper voice about how exciting and fantastic it was that we were going to get to sit and watch this train go by.....Its in these moments that I realize how important it is to not let my own emotions mirror my childs, no matter how distressed and awful they might be making life for themselves and everyone else. Someone must be uber calm. And basically that person has to be Mom. Not always easy, and sometimes not even possible. But I put my whole focus into it and sat there watching that SLOOOOOW train go by and discussed the cars and their different colors with Adelaide.
Bless her.

After seeming hours had past we finally arrived at the ER. An ER that was filled with the young and old all reduced to waiting together in the hopes of getting some medical care. And there we were. Two women and a screaming 3 year old. And by screaming I mean SCREAMING. Really really loud screaming.

I'm pretty sure Adelaide and I  were mistaken as a couple by an actual lesbian couple and their tween son who were sitting in front of us, but they were SO nice and friendly and incredibly patient with the amount of weeping and nashing of teeth that was going on behind them. Seriously, I do not know why the ER didn't call us back sooner, just for the sake of the 40 other people having to suffer through listening to us...  But they didn't and instead we waited for FOUR HOURS. Ransom eventually fell asleep 

And we watched the time tick away. With each passing minute I regretted my
Decision to come to the ER. After further observation it was clear that only Ranaom's ear hurt. Nothing else. Classic ear infection. And sure, he kept waking up in pain, but at home at least the two of us would be the only ones suffering. Here in the ER Adelaide was stuck with is, and by now, my Dear Friend Deb was watching over Tabitha at home and Brett was at work, so Deb was ALSO holding an unasked for night vigil. I had clearly jumped the gun. We should not be here....
But now that'd we'd put in all that suffering time, when should we call it quits? At what point was all of this waiting around NOT worth it any more? 

I held Ransom's sweaty head in my lap and played mind games: "if we haven't been called by 11, we'll leave..."

"If we haven't been called by 12:15 we'll leave."

At 12:30 I sent Adelaide on a recon mission to see how far down on the list we were. It was SUPER discouraging to here that there were five patients in front of us.

And then around 1 Ransom woke up again. And so did everyone else within ear shot because the dude began to scream and cry again. In desperation, I picked him up and carried him up to the desk with me to have the people tell ME to my FACE that 5 hours in the ER was not enough... And guess what? They did just that. They told me and my crying son that there were no longer FIVE people in front of us, but SIX. 

This was the last straw.

I turned, went back to our seats and told Adelaide we were leaving... And then, the most annoying thing happened.... They called our name! Sure as I'm impatient they had called my bluff and I was NOT taking it!! And there they were calling is back. Half begging us to stay!

I suppose I should be thankful that the rest of our ER Visit last about 45 minutes, from seeing the doctor to getting our medicine and walking out the door. BUT IM NOT.

Should I have called their bluff sooner? Pretended to leave so my kid would get care? Should we even have to resort to either going to the ER or being sent to a clinic that misdiagnosed Tabitha only a few weeks before? Should I have definitely just waited to go to the ER during the next morning so all my friends could have gotten a decent nights sleep?

All the answers to these questions made for a pretty unsatisfied Mommy.

But such is the way, and as I have said before, these moments so quickly fad
From memory... And for that I am thankful. 

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