Bummer to Blessed

This day had all the promise of being a bummer.

Right before Awanas last night, Clay spiked a fever. He'd already complained about a sore throat, but, hey, who in this house hasn't had a sore throat in the last two weeks?! (Actually, Spencer. He has blissfully escaped all symptoms of the cruddy cold with consistent cough.)

I stayed home with Clay while Bruce dropped Spencer and Allison off at church for Awanas. Then he went to meet his parents, because his dad finally got sprung from the Big House (that would be the hospital, which I'm sure felt like jail for him).

I kept Clay home this morning even though his throat didn't look particularly streppy. By then he had a headache, too.

I wasn't sure what to do. I had a dental appointment at 10:30 a.m. Keep it or cancel it?

After dropping the younger two off at school, I showered and got ready and called the pediatrician. They providentially called back before we left for my dentist appointment... and set Clay's appointment for late enough after my appointment that we didn't have to stress about making it, or being back home before Spencer and Allison got off the school bus. Oh, the juggling we do!

We got to the dentist's office and I warned our hygienist that Clay probably had strep and that I was getting over all kinds of wicked germs. She calmly reached for her face mask.

Then she mentioned that she could slip Clay in right after my cleaning since his appointment was the next morning and "he might not feel up to it then." She'd had a cancellation earlier this morning that conveniently allowed her the time to move Clay's appointment. I love our hygienist, Miss Judy. She rocks!

Clay got his teeth cleaned and we left with a business card for a local orthodontist. Might as well get used to the idea of funding three metal mouths.

We were home long enough to take his temperature and realize it was climbing. We decided to wait to each lunch until after his appointment, and to eat at Taco Bell instead of at home.

Our pediatrician looked at Clay's throat and said it didn't look streppy (my paraphrase). I said, "I know, but still..."

Then he looked for the rash that my boys always get with strep and noted that it was absent. I said, "I know, but..."

He noticed Clay had a snotty nose and remarked that usually strep doesn't include congestion. Again... "I know, but still..."

I don't think the doctor planned to swab Clay. And I knew I'd be in trouble with Bruce.

His workplace started employing a doctor on site about a half year ago. Visits are free to employees and their families. But when I took Allison (and was 100 percent certain she had strep) the doctor didn't swab her, but sent us on our way with a prescription for antibiotics.

I am not an antibiotic-happy parent. I want tests done to prove my kids need it first.

I have only been wrong about my kids and strep twice in probably 25 plus cases so far. Still, I have been wrong. And they get the junk enough that I want them to benefit from antibiotics when they need them and not find that we are out of luck because the antibiotic is ineffective thanks to overuse and abuse.

So I chose to pay a $30 copay today instead of visit the free doctor... based solely on the swab. The swab that was looking more and more unlikely.

They had Clay blow his nose in Saran Wrap and came back and asked if we had any new indoor pets. No, we don't. Just fish. Old fish, not new ones.

And so it became apparent that Clay's allergies are getting worse. Or at the very least, he's adding new allergens.

Well, I'm an idiot about allergies. Did you know that dermatological, respiratory and food allergies are all tested in different ways? I didn't.

Clay had complained in the last half year about tomatoes itching his throat after he eats them. Pizza is fine. Spaghetti is fine. But raw tomatoes aren't.

And earlier this month, after eating an apple, he made that gross sound in the back of his throat that he does in his sleep all spring and summer long. It sounds like he's about to retch. But he's actually rubbing his upper and lower throat together to "scratch".

I mentioned all that to the doctor, thinking that might be what put allergens in my boy's snot. The doctor said he'd go back and look for more bacteria.

Then the nurse came in with the swabbing Q-tip. Which tested positive for strep.

Clay opted for the shot, as is typical for him. He hates taking oral medication. Consequently, he has made us hate the ordeal of giving it to him. Every time he says he wants the shot, I am thrilled.

And then the nurse came back with a lab sheet to have a vial of Clay's blood drawn to test for food allergies to tomatoes and apples.

Oh crud! I am not the best person to take my child on his first blood test adventure. I passed out after every blood test from my first in fourth grade until I was in my 30's.

And then I had them often enough that I got over it. And not a moment too soon, because from then on I had one to three kids watching when I had my blood drawn. And there was no way I was fainting in front of them and passing on my phobia.

Clay has been engrossed every time he's watched me have blood drawn. Ever since he could stand beside me instead of sitting in his car seat while it's drawn. Freakishly fascinated.

Today, he was less fascinated by the idea of his own blood being drawn. At first, I thought we'd just wait and do it another day. I mean, the poor boy has strep and feels bad anyway. By then he was limping for taking a shot to the rear. He said he had had enough for one day.

We had our lunch at Taco Bell, and I had more time to think.

He had nearly fallen asleep waiting to be seen by the doctor. He was a bit lethargic from the fever he had. And worn out from the adrenaline rush accompanying his shot in the bum. Any other day, he'd be more energetic. More able to fight off medical personnel.

Plus, the whole dreading it in advance thing... I'm not a fan.

I said, "Let's drive by, see how busy they are, and get this done if they're not busy."

Nope, he was having none of that. I waffled.

But any other day, it might be raining. Or snowing. Today would be easy in and easy out.

Any other day, I might have the other two munchkins along for the ride. Today we were solo.

Plus, he'd already missed school. I'd have to pull him out if we came back another day.

We went in to the lab, I filled out the paperwork and we sat. He said he was nervous. I said that was normal.

I told him he would feel the needle going in, but no other pain. And that the bee stings he has had are way worse pain that blood tests.

I was watching the clock. We had 45 minutes until Spencer and Allison would get off the bus at home.

His name was called and we went back. That nurse was something else! Love her. Wish we could keep her.

She put the rubber band on his arm and then showed Clay this huge, fat blue vein in his arm, perfect for puncturing. Clay asked her how big the needle was and she said, "I use this one on five-year-olds. You're eight. You're going to be just fine."

She took the plastic tip off and Clay said, "Oh, that doesn't look sharp at all." But his eyes were dilated by now.

She rubbed on the alcohol then she counted down and put the needle in. But Clay had turned his head to talk to me for a second. She asked him, "Have I started yet?"

He said "no" as he was turning his head back toward his arm, and then he saw the needle in his arm and incredulously said, "yes!" It was over in no time.

You have to know that this was God's provision here. I have overcome my propensity to faint when having my own blood drawn, but I was feeling very apprehensive about going through this with him.

Even with all the House and ER I watch, I do not watch shots or needles of any kind on TV or in movies. I curl up as near to fetal as I can get and close my eyes with my head held down. Then I ask whoever is with me, "Is it over?" until I get a positive reply.

I really wanted to call Bruce and have him come to handle this, because I didn't want to warp Clay.

But our boy did great. And he is none the wiser concerning what a weakling his mother is. Here he is at home after the fact, with his lovely pink bandaging. He's obviously still a little puny.




We got home a good 20 minutes before the other two got off the bus.

Every minute of this day was controlled by the Lord.

I know they all are. But some days you just notice it more.

It's been a blessed day.