Last Friday while on diaper duty, The Wife noticed a small bump on Lil Money’s bum. She brought it to my attention and asked me what I thought we should do so I recommended we keep and eye on it and call his doctor if we noticed any changes in it and in him.
Changes in him occurred quickly, he slept for only 30 minutes at a time, he was fussier than usual and only ate/drank half a bottle at a time. The bump on his bum though, was slower going, good thing too cause it was the weekend. But, by Sunday it was more firm and beginning to redden.
We took his temperature… No fever, whew, but still decided an emergency call to the doctor was needed. When she called back, we discussed his temperament and the “sore” and she said she’d like to see him first thing Monday morning. Bright and early we woke and headed to the office, her diagnosis… It was worse than she hoped it would be; us too. She asked her staff to make an emergency referral for us to see a surgeon at Dells Children Hospital and off we went.
Office 1: We got there by about 8:30 or 9:00, not really sure. It was cold in the waiting room and it kinda smelled like B.O. The Wife didn’t notice, I blamed it on this straggler-looking lady. Other than her and her daughter there weren’t many folks there yet, but they soon began to rush in. Surprisingly we didn’t have to wait long before “Cash” was called. The nurse examined him and recommended that we see the surgeon today. She discussed the procedure with us and sent us on our way. But not after letting –making- us sit in the examination room for what felt like 30 minutes. More referrals. Finally she returned and sent us on our way.
It’s 10 a.m. and Lil Money has been solid but our appointment isn’t until noon and he hasn’t eaten since 6:40 in the morning. The Wife and I are hungry and we know his little belly’s gotta be rumbling but he can’t have anything else to eat because of the procedure he’s going to have, poor kid. We’re hungry though and we have some time to kill so we decide to hit up a local establishment for some breakfast.
A pretty good place, a mom and pop shop but they’ve split and have their own joints now, you dig? Their name’s rhyme but this one belongs to her. Anyhow, we get there and The Boy is fast asleep so we figure we could get some food without disturbing any of the other customers. We park, unload and walk up to the door. A sign on it reads Cash Only. Really? Its 2010, step up your game, how many folks carry paper around these days, “his” place accepts plastic. So we packed back into the ride and decided to head to Mimi’s. From North to South we roll.
Fast forward… Office 2: It’s nearly noon, we’re at the surgeon’s office at the time they told us. We’re called back and are seated in a patient’s room. A nurse greats us and begins taking Lil Money’s blood pressure, temperature and other readings. He’s not digging this action and begins to cry. But I quickly calm him and assure him that she is helping, also letting him know that he will be taken care of soon. We have a seat and he falls back to sleep, what a champ. An Anesthesiologist stops by and informs us of his plans and answers our questions. The surgeon, who I can only describe as a “Richard” –you follow me?- stops in a bit later and discusses the procedure, he talks as though he’s just read a 38 page report on the production of butter in Ireland. His “who give’s a shit attitude” is filled with more douchebagery than a state college fraternity brother. C’mon man, this is your gig, I understand it’s your day-to-day but my son isn’t getting knocked out and an incision everyday. Step your personality game up, oh and go F yourself. Hey, that’s just how I feel about the guy.
I trust that he does his job well and sees some nice coin from it so please humor me with a bit of confidence not conceitedness. Anyhow, we got there at noon, an hour goes by and we’re still waiting, the lil guy begins to fuss and is understandably pissed when we have to tease him with a pacifier rather than a bottle. We tell him that it has to be soon that he’ll be taken care of; I mean it’s been an hour.
WRONG! Another hour later and he’s finally taken from us for his procedure, The Wife begins to tear up at her sons first run in with medical attention. “He’ll be fine”. About fifteen minutes later he returns to us crying out of confusion and hunger. After over 8 hours he’s finally able to eat again, Mom feeds her son and tries to sooth him. The little king’s first battle was taken in stride with elegance and composure. If he continues his likenesses to his father this is only the first of many. With and empty wallet and full heart, I’ll be there with him for every bump, scrape and what-have-you. I love that boy!
Changes in him occurred quickly, he slept for only 30 minutes at a time, he was fussier than usual and only ate/drank half a bottle at a time. The bump on his bum though, was slower going, good thing too cause it was the weekend. But, by Sunday it was more firm and beginning to redden.
We took his temperature… No fever, whew, but still decided an emergency call to the doctor was needed. When she called back, we discussed his temperament and the “sore” and she said she’d like to see him first thing Monday morning. Bright and early we woke and headed to the office, her diagnosis… It was worse than she hoped it would be; us too. She asked her staff to make an emergency referral for us to see a surgeon at Dells Children Hospital and off we went.
Office 1: We got there by about 8:30 or 9:00, not really sure. It was cold in the waiting room and it kinda smelled like B.O. The Wife didn’t notice, I blamed it on this straggler-looking lady. Other than her and her daughter there weren’t many folks there yet, but they soon began to rush in. Surprisingly we didn’t have to wait long before “Cash” was called. The nurse examined him and recommended that we see the surgeon today. She discussed the procedure with us and sent us on our way. But not after letting –making- us sit in the examination room for what felt like 30 minutes. More referrals. Finally she returned and sent us on our way.
It’s 10 a.m. and Lil Money has been solid but our appointment isn’t until noon and he hasn’t eaten since 6:40 in the morning. The Wife and I are hungry and we know his little belly’s gotta be rumbling but he can’t have anything else to eat because of the procedure he’s going to have, poor kid. We’re hungry though and we have some time to kill so we decide to hit up a local establishment for some breakfast.
A pretty good place, a mom and pop shop but they’ve split and have their own joints now, you dig? Their name’s rhyme but this one belongs to her. Anyhow, we get there and The Boy is fast asleep so we figure we could get some food without disturbing any of the other customers. We park, unload and walk up to the door. A sign on it reads Cash Only. Really? Its 2010, step up your game, how many folks carry paper around these days, “his” place accepts plastic. So we packed back into the ride and decided to head to Mimi’s. From North to South we roll.
Fast forward… Office 2: It’s nearly noon, we’re at the surgeon’s office at the time they told us. We’re called back and are seated in a patient’s room. A nurse greats us and begins taking Lil Money’s blood pressure, temperature and other readings. He’s not digging this action and begins to cry. But I quickly calm him and assure him that she is helping, also letting him know that he will be taken care of soon. We have a seat and he falls back to sleep, what a champ. An Anesthesiologist stops by and informs us of his plans and answers our questions. The surgeon, who I can only describe as a “Richard” –you follow me?- stops in a bit later and discusses the procedure, he talks as though he’s just read a 38 page report on the production of butter in Ireland. His “who give’s a shit attitude” is filled with more douchebagery than a state college fraternity brother. C’mon man, this is your gig, I understand it’s your day-to-day but my son isn’t getting knocked out and an incision everyday. Step your personality game up, oh and go F yourself. Hey, that’s just how I feel about the guy.
I trust that he does his job well and sees some nice coin from it so please humor me with a bit of confidence not conceitedness. Anyhow, we got there at noon, an hour goes by and we’re still waiting, the lil guy begins to fuss and is understandably pissed when we have to tease him with a pacifier rather than a bottle. We tell him that it has to be soon that he’ll be taken care of; I mean it’s been an hour.
WRONG! Another hour later and he’s finally taken from us for his procedure, The Wife begins to tear up at her sons first run in with medical attention. “He’ll be fine”. About fifteen minutes later he returns to us crying out of confusion and hunger. After over 8 hours he’s finally able to eat again, Mom feeds her son and tries to sooth him. The little king’s first battle was taken in stride with elegance and composure. If he continues his likenesses to his father this is only the first of many. With and empty wallet and full heart, I’ll be there with him for every bump, scrape and what-have-you. I love that boy!
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