| Loads of Fun | | Date Created: May 07, 2007, 08:06 PM |
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Well, there's not much news to report here. I feel as if I'm in one of those periods where it's just more of the same pretty much every day. More of the same right now is questions questions questions and demands demands demands. And James has been especially James lately. He won't stop screaming and yelling when I put him down for nap or bed until I remove every object from his room that does not belong. This does not mean he cares if his room is an absolute mess--as long as it is the appropriate mess. Any car, knight, ball, or plastic horse that is not his must go. Any cup no longer being used. Dirty underwear. A book he doesn't like. So I gripe and moan and pick all the stuff up like a child whose been told to clean HER room. And then in the exact same chipper tone no matter how gripey my gripes he says every time, "Goodnight I love you too!" Another recent issue is that none of his clothes, socks, or shoes fit. According to him. Everything is "too big" or "not right!" He's driving me crazy!
The other day I had to take him to the gastrointestinal specialist at the medical university for an appointment we've had for months. Our pediatrician is really wonderful and doesn't think there is anything wrong with James--physically, that is :) --but he went ahead and made the appointment with the specialist for us because I just wanted to be sure that his chronic chronic constipation is nothing serious. SO. We parked in the lot and walked together to the office and we were actually having fun. I love pretending I have only one child every once in a while. He was all smiles and it was fun to be together. And then it sort of went downhill which turned into down mountain.
First, in the exam room he wouldn't sit on the table. This was before the nurse practitioner was even in the room, so I knew I had to work fast to get him to do it before she got in there. Finally I bribed him to sit by sitting with him and reading him books. Then I had to tackle the hospital gown he was supposed to wear. Thank goodness for his endless vanity. I convinced him the blue color of the gown really made the blue of his eyes stand out. And once I had EVERY tie on the back of it tied JUST RIGHT, he was not dissatisfied. When the nurse came in, James was cordial, but he refused to lie down on his back. Making it rather difficult to examine his stomach as you can imagine.
The whole point of the visit was to rule out anything bad and force me to accept that his problems stem from the simple fact of his bowels being as obstinate as his personality. All of this I wanted taken care of, but I didn't realize we would take care of it that very day. So from the GI clinic we went down a floor to the lab to get blood drawn. Now, how do you explain to a 3-year-old who won't lie down on a table because it might hurt what drawing blood entails? I decided not to attempt the impossible and basically kept my mouth shut. Once inside the lab I told the extremely nice woman that James had no idea what was about to happen. I plopped him on my lap and held on to him firmly.This tight grip on him caused instant alarm, understandably. I started babbling on about how I gave blood sometimes and how he had to have blood from people who gave blood when he was a baby in the hospital and then decided this was pretty silly and so told him to tell the nice lady--Miss Tara--where we were going afterwards. For ice cream. Then while she prepared the thing that sticks, I grilled him about his favorite flavor, Daddy's favorite, his brothers' favorites, and even Miss Tara shared hers. When she stuck the needle in James was completely shocked and horrified. Again, understandably. And he had to fill four viles.He was crying his sincere cry which I hardly ever hear but which is very recognizable from his normal screeching. I just held on tight and let him cry. Miss Tara was so patient and quick, Afterwards, she let him pick out a coloring book and lo and behold one was a pirate one. All was well. We were on our way and James was very proud of himself for being "bewey bwave."
Next, down to the first floor for an x-ray. Nothing nearly so painful or scary as giving blood. But James did not get this memo. We waited a while in the waiting room and James kept asking if he was going to get to take a picture with the camera. How to explain any of this? Especially when it's 4:00 in the afternoon and you've been humoring James all day, trying to keep him calm, and signing papers and listening to instructions while he is talking and/or wailing in my ear. When they called his name, he took off. I had to catch him and instantly I knew this wouldn't be good. For better or worse, the x-ray technician was a man about 6-7, 300 lbs. And bald. Named Ed. All James had to do was lie down. He didn't even have to take off any clothes. But Ed might as well have asked him to lie down on burning coals as on the nice white sheet and fluffly pillow. I finally said to Ed, "I don't care of he screams or if I have to hold him down to do this." And Ed said, "Neither do I." Meanwhile, James is screaming so loud I'm sure everyone in the waiting room heard, "It's too dangerous! It's too dangerous!" Anyway, I held him down and the thing was done. And then Ed came back in and said we had to do it again. So we did. James didn't fight it quite as much. I mean, the first one didn't hurt or have any scary lights or anything. In the end, Ed was as nice as anyone in his position could have been and he was also very quick. I'm sure when he called James' name and saw James start to squirm and whine he was dreading dealing with us, especially at the end of a long day. At least I hope Ed got a little laugh when he looked at the doctor's order I had to give him that described what the x-ray was needed to detect "Fecal Load."
Finally we were out of there. And after racking my brain for a place that sold both ice cream and scotch I settled on Wholly Cow ice cream shop where James had a scoop of chocolate and I sucked down a berry smoothie. What a day. And today I got the call back from the nurse practitioner. There's nothing wrong with James but a quite substantial fecal load. I'm glad it's nothing more serious, believe me, but I guess we're just stuck trying to force fiber and water down his less than welcoming throat. Maybe after the two "pediatric mineral oil enemas" he's going to have to have he'll think twice about not eating that oatmeal.
In other related news, George pooped in the potty for the first time ever. At Just Fresh Cafe' and Bakery. John will be thirty years old before he ever poops in a public restroom if he ever does. I knew once George got started he would come on strong. He went again today at home. Aaah. Adventures in potty-going. I cannot WAIT until the boys' potty visits are no longer my business. I'm suddenly quite pooped out, so I think I'll try to rest a little before the guys get up from their nap. Have a wonderful week and please eat your fiber do your Mama can take a load off. |
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