Oh that's right...wrong book. I was talking about the boy who cried wolf. Well, you might as well call the incident Chicken Little - we ended up at the same point in the end.
My Rae has been sick for like three weeks - 2 doc visits, 2 antibiotics - to no avail. OK, Monday - phone rings. "Hello, Arrie, it is Ruth (admin from Rae's school)...Rae is in my office compaining of a headace and dizziness". "Is she throwing up?" I ask. "NO". "Well, Ruth, put Rae on the phone...Rae? Go back to class and suck it up. If you get a fever, throw up or pass out, call me". OK. An hour later...ring..."Hello, Arrie...Rae is back in my office". "Is she bleeding?" I asked. "No". "Is she throwing up or have a fever?" "No". "Please put Rae on the phone...Rae? I am not sure what part of suck it up you did not understand, but it is noon and I am NOT driving from Long Valley to Succasunna to get you just to drive back there in a couple of hours to pick up Adam again". OK. Now I should let you know that Ruth is just like me...a good sense of sarcastic humor and since she knows me personally from working there, she understands the issues. We live 15 minutes from school - including pick up it is 45 minutes round trip and I was in Mendham which tacks on 25 minutes to the trip. 2 o'clock...ring (you can see where this is going) "Hello, Ruth?" "Well, yes it IS Ruth". "Ruth, let me guess...Rae is in your office right?"..."put her on the phone"..."Mommy, I am really dizzy and have a terrible headache...pppplllleeeeaaaasssseee come to pick me up" at which point I am feeling like mother of the year for NOT picking her up earlier so I crumble under the pressure and get her. Just to sit in the parking lot for 45 more minutes waiting for my son to get out.
Tuesday. Noon. Ring..."Arrie?"..."Ruth?"..."put her on...Rae? Are you dying or are you in need of an ambulance?" "Well, mommy, no but I am dizzy and have another headache". "OK, I will pick you up". Driving to the school I thought that she might need an ambulance when I get done with her.
Now I am not ticked that my 12 year old can't sit through a day of school with a headache and am perplexed at what might be going on so I call the doctor. Make the first appointment which I can get which is on Wednesday. Go to the doc. Routine stuff - what is wrong...how do you feel...when does it happen...etc. Her blood pressure was really low but heart rate fine which tells the doc not an issue other than it can be causing the dizzyness and headache. Now I am sitting there thinking..."I don't have low blood pressure and my head is SCREAMING right now. As a matter of fact, my head hurts everyday at about noon when the phone rings". He checks her out and really finds nothing. He suggests she drink more water, eat smaller meals every couple of hours and mandates the use of salt. Sidenote: Why had a doctor never mandated ME to use salt - I LOVE salt...just wondering. Then he drops the bomb....the dreaded "b" word and no, he didn't say budget! He said "BLOODWORK" and my tender, quiet daughter comes unglued. Now, we have a history with her and bloodwork. We have had to literally strap her down and shove my hand over her mouth to fade out the shreiking and screaming just to have her state, in the end, that it wasn't so bad. So I brace myself...take a deep breath...pray and go for it.
Nurse comes in, puts the band on her arm, cleans the arm with alcohol and it starts. Wimpering..."mommy, I am scared....help me....pppllleeeaaassseee don't let them hurt me". Now, I am pretty soft right now, understanding and sympathetic..."it's ok baby, it will only hurt for a second...breathe...let's pray....ok, get your thoughts under control..." This went on for nearly 5 minutes to the point that I wasn't so sympathetic and she wasn't so quiet. The nurse literally said not a word and turned around and walked out. In walks the doctor. Now at this point I am raging inside. WHY won't she just shut up and do this...This is ridiculous...ok, doc time.
Honey, we need to do this or you have to go to a lab (which, is where we ended up the last time after we tied her down and listened to her scream like we were literally murdering her) at which point I say "I am NOT going to a lab again so you better get that arm out and let him get this blood". Now, at this point she is blubbering and wailing. The doc reminds her that it is a doctor office and they have other patients to see (and I am guessing he was implying that they might just be listening and get scared away) and we need to do this now. The short of it is that, once again, I was like "YOU HAVE TO DO THIS SO GET YOURSELF UNDER CONTROL (because I was totally under control???!!!) AND PUT YOUR ARM OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!". In the end, I sat on her again, covered her screaming mouth with my hand and forced the arm out until the doc had the blood he needed. She now starts..."mommy, I am so sorry....". "I forgive you Rae but don't talk to me about this because I am about to blow a gasket. I need to pray and talk to daddy". We drove home in silence. Her singing like nothing happened and me praying like the dickens.
Now, what does all this have to do with the boy who cried wolf? Well, now you can see what it has to do with chicken little...but the wolf?
Eric and I talk and we both decide that this is just a pattern of uncontrolled thoughts, ridiculous intolerence for discomfort (the infamous "it hurts, it hurts" and it is a paper cut and 2 days later she is still not writing because "it still hurts") and overall disobedience. So, he comes up with a plan...and this was it.
Today, we drove to the library. She sat there and read the boy who cried wolf and had to give me the relation to what had happened. I thought about an essay but that would be yet another headache for me. I opt out. Now, Eric's other plan is to randomly ask her what happened, to relate things in a reasonable manner and if not, essay time.
She just went to bed defeated. Not happy that I am blogging about her...not happy that essays are on the horizon...and probably not happy that I am still not happy. So, my girl is the boy who cried wolf, she is chicken little and me....well I guess that makes me the Old Maid!
Until next time...
