URGENT CARE-LESS: When the Doctor Wants to Wash Her Hands of Mommy

It was our last day of vacation when we rushed baby boy back to the Urgent Care doctor because he developed a rash while on antibiotics for his ear infection. I expected it NOT to be a big deal. YES, rashes and antibiotics can mean an allergic reaction to the medicine, which can be serious. The thing is, he developed the rash after being in the sun and it went away within 15 minutes of appearing—long enough for us to have noticed it, called the doc, and driven down the road to the Urgent care for what turned into a roller coaster ride of the unexpected.



By the time the doctor walked into the room, the rash was completely gone. Phew! It must have been the sun after-all. Well, the Urgent care Doctor had other thoughts:

The doctor walks in the room pressing her clipboard to her chest with crossed arms. She glares at me, with those same squinting, beady eyes that whipped me the day before when she arrogantly accused me of causing my son’s ear infection because I had stopped breastfeeding him at 10 months. Without even looking at our baby to see that the rash we called about was now gone, she declares in the most unsympathetic voice, “Your baby has a febrile illness and you need to take him to the ER!”

Febrile illness! What the heck is that! It sounded like some spinal disease that was life threatening. My heart contracted to the point of bursting in my chest.

“What is a febrile illness?” I manage to ask, taking a deep gasp of thick stale office air.

“A febrile illness is a fever!” She explains, rolling her eyes as though I am the most ignorant person on the planet.

“What!” I think. Why are you trying to throw a fancy medical term at me? Just say fever. Okay, I can breathe again. It is only a fever!

“SO, because your child has a febrile illness, you need to take him to the ER NOW” and she spins around ready to leave the room, her hair nearly slapping me in the face.

“Wait. I am confused. I was here yesterday, you diagnosed baby with an ear infection. He had a fever yesterday. We are here today because he had a rash, which went away 15 minutes after appearing. His fever is better today. So, why are you telling me to go to the ER?”

“You need the ER because of the febrile illness! He will need chest x-rays, blood cultures, urine screening. I cannot offer that here in urgent care.”

Then in her annoyance, she asks me, “Why don’t you want to take your sick child to the ER, Mommy!”

Why don’t I want to take my child to the ER! Surely this woman knows NOTHING about me. She hasn’t read this or this and she surely doesn’t know about my horror story of the night I had to spend in the ER last year when I had an emergency appendectomy—I’ll have to share more on that in a future post. Let’s just say they put me next to diarrhea man, with only a shower curtain separating our “rooms,” and yes, I had my infant with me because I was nursing him and had no stored breast milk, and yes, after the nurse goes in between both of our “rooms” they decide to quarantine him! AFTER coming into my room where I have a newborn infant with me. And NO there was NOT even a full wall of curtain separating us. I heard every groan he made, yes, you could smell everything, and all I could think was please let this virus NOT be airborne! Okay, breathe again. Let me compose myself here to continue …

So I reply to her politely but firmly: “I’m just not understanding what has changed since yesterday. You diagnosed him with an ear infection, which is why he had a fever. He’s on an antibiotic that was working fine. We only brought him in here because of the rash, but the rash went away, so it looks like it’s not a rash from the antibiotic because it left so suddenly. Also, unless it is absolutely necessary I like to avoid the ER because I don’t want to expose my child to more germs.”

“It is MY LEGAL, Professional, medical opinion, that you go to the ER,” she fires!

“But can you help me understand? I like to look at this as a point of learning because I also have a 2YO at home. So, they have fevers occasionally, as all children do. What warrants this situation, this fever, that I should take him to the ER?”

Well, that was the end of her explaining. Every other question that I asked was answered with the following broken record recording:

“It is MY LEGAL, Professional, medical opinion, that you go to the ER.”
“It is MY LEGAL, Professional, medical opinion, that you go to the ER.”
“It is MY LEGAL, Professional, medical opinion, that you go to the ER.”

Then, at the end of our discussion, she changes her mind and says that instead of going to the ER she will call the nearest pediatrician for us to bring baby to that office instead.

Translation: I’m having second guesses on my diagnosis. So go to the ER or at least somewhere else so we can ensure nothing goes wrong and you don’t sue me. No, I don’t know what I’m talking about. But if you continue to ask more questions I will continue to use the term “febrile illness” as though it is tuberculosis or cancer and will continue to make you feel like a lazy mother who just wants to avoid the inconvenience of taking her sick baby to the ER while on her vacation.

So what happens? Everything in me is telling me that for whatever reason she has decided to freak out on me and doesn’t want to be held responsible if she made a mistake somewhere and is telling me to go elsewhere so she can wash her hands of the situation. My motherly instinct says baby is completely fine. The rash went away, just go home: his fever is even gone now, rash is gone, he’s doing well on antibiotics, so go home and enjoy the last day of your beach vacation. BUT, the mind and emotions don’t always come into alignment. In my emotions I’m in complete turmoil. I mean a doctor is telling me to go to the ER, shouldn’t I listen? Surely I don’t know better than a doctor!

So, we end up driving 30 minutes away into the next town to the nearest pediatrician office that the Urgent care doctor set up for us to meet with. What does the pediatrician say?

He says baby boy is FINE! The ear infection is a nasty one, but just keep on with the antibiotics because it is helping. NO, pediatrician says, the rash was NOT a reaction to the antibiotics because if it were it would have lasted longer. It wouldn’t have disappeared within 15 minutes, especially because the antibiotic baby is on is one that stays in one’s system for days. So if he were really having an allergic reaction it would still be going on. Well, what about the urine cultures or chest x-rays? Pediatrician says NOT necessary. Because baby is on antibiotics even if they did a urine or blood culture it would come up negative because he’s on antibiotics, so there wouldn’t be any bacteria.

So as it turns out, the best way to freak out your urgent care doctor is to bring your baby back the day after she prescribed an antibiotic to treat baby’s ear infection and tell her your baby has a rash. But, now, be forewarned, because the doctor will reciprocate the favor, freaking out Mommy by demanding that you take baby to the ER to get treated for blood tests, urine cultures, and chest x-rays. Well, that is if you have the doctor we saw.

What’s your urgent care horror story? What would you have done?

Thanks for your continued voting for me in the top mommy blogs. We’re a few votes shy of being in the top 25 overall and are the #2 humor blog. So, keep the votes coming, 1 per day.

Posted by Laura

When Mommy Becomes a Human Tissue

We’re going on 9 straight days of leaking noses in my house. Yesterday, thanks to the AC breaking, I grabbed a T-shirt and shorts to stay cool; they happened to both be black. At the end of the day, I looked at myself in the mirror and was surprised to see silvery iridescent slime streaks across my black shirt that glowed in the florescent bathroom lighting—like slug trails illuminating on the sidewalk under moonlight. Yes, my children had left their marks on Mommy. Those hugs and squeezes were really the strategic wiping of drips on Mommy’s shirt; why use a tissue when you can hug Mommy and wipe your nose at the same time!

Well, not today! I thought. Because today I was going to work with Daddy. The kids were dropped at Grandma’s house while Mommy actually got to fix her hair, do her make-up, and wear a nice black dress, and remember what she used to look like before chasing around Mr. Poopie with the wipe all day long. Well, in returning home from work this afternoon, 2YO runs up to me to give me a big hug.

“Mommy! Mommy!” She comes running, clearly with something sweet to tell me. What would she say? Would it be the “I missed you” or “I love you, Mommy.” No, today it was going to be something extra special—I could tell by that look in her eyes. I call her to sit on my lap when she whips out that little pointer finger a few inches from my face and with both a sense of delight and great pride declares, “I have boogie on my fin-ga, Mommeeee!”

And there it was, this decrepit yellow shrivel, perched out and gripping on for dear life. I could almost hear it hissing: “Go ahead, tell her to put me in a tissue. You'll regret it!”

Now what could this ug-laaay little booger do to me? So in spite of the threats I say, “NO, we don’t pick our noses, let’s get a tissue.” Well, before the words are even out of my mouth, Toddler-girl is shoving that finger in her mouth! “Oh, nooooooooo!” I cry, with disgust. I don't know how, but that boogie enticed my poor child to taste it! “NO, We don’t eat boogies---“ and before I can finish my sentence, 2YO does what in her mind is the next best practical idea, pull it out of her mouth and immediately wipe it on Mommy’s knee! So, there I am with this elongated booger stretched out several inches across my bare knee in the shape of a V as though it were claiming “victory” over me. That was when I looked down and realized . . . I have become a human tissue! Yet another thing to add to the list of having earned my badge in motherhood.

Thanks for voting for me in the Top mommy blogs. You can vote 1x a day by clicking to the right of this post.

Posted by Laura

When Mommy Becomes a One-Legged-Chicken

Craziness hit our house this morning: That big-ole-heavy-glass-jar filled with thick alfredo sauce that had been sitting on the very top shelf of the refrigerator door secretly attached itself to the bottle of maple syrup; so when I innocently lifted out the syrup to decorate 2YO’s waffle, BAMB! The jar detached itself from the syrup and came crashing down full force like a mallet striking the center of my left big toe. And that’s not the end of the story.

Fast forward five minutes later when I’m whimpering to myself in throbbing pain. Having hobbled like a one-legged chicken over to the couch and repeatedly maneuvered the bag of frozen peas in attempts to discover a non-pain-inducing position, I both kindly and not-so-kindly tell toddler-girl that she may NOT touch the swollen toe that I suppose is appearing to her like this magical fuchsia and lavender balled ornament that she just cannot resist trying to touch, especially when it’s sporting her favorite colors. 

Ten minutes later: Several more yelps up to sleeping husband with requests for him to go get crying baby boy who is still upstairs in his crib.  Right then, just as I’m staring at the bag of frozen green peas, I hear daddy yell down the most ironic of all statements: “Did you give him peas for dinner last night? … He threw up peas all over the crib!”

Could this story get any worse? Never underestimate the power of a crazy morning. (In fact, I think I will switch to the third person narration to give this story full effect.)

Mommy is sitting there in pain when 2YO whines that dreaded, “My tummy hurts!” Mommy leaps off that couch on her one chicken leg, lifts little girl to the potty JUST in the knick of time. A surprise explosion—captured! Yes, Mommy grins with delight seeing that we made it to the potty. Mommy hops to the other side of the house and back to grab the wipes and get her disposable rubber gloves to properly sanitize little girl.  Daddy, on the contrary, is functioning as the two-legged headless chicken, stripping down a dirty but still ever-so-cute baby boy, scrubbing down both baby and the smelly crib, and running outside armed with rubber gloves to shake those peas out of a soggy crib sheet.  Now that’s what you call teamwork!

So how does this story end? When all are cleaned and redressed, several hours later, all agree they never want to see peas for a very long time. Mommy and Daddy look at each other and roll their eyes; this was nothing compared to last year. Then, baby boy goes down for his morning nap. Mommy hobbles into her warm bed with her big sore toe sticking out from under lots of comfy covers. Toddler-girl snuggles next to mommy watching cartoons, and Daddy surprises Mommy with breakfast in bed—Greek eggs, tomatoes, and feta cheese. Perhaps there is a happy ending to this story after all (even if only lasting a few minutes). 


Posted by Laura

Mommy Confession #872: The Blankeee with Rainbow Sprinkles

My little girl's favorite blanket, the pink one that has the plush velour trimmed with satin, the one she named "Soft Blankeee," the one she has snuggled with every night ever since an infant, the one that she named the adopted fifth member of the family, the one that on Thursday night when she woke up with a tummy ache--it successfully caught EVERYTHING, the one that as I carried it to the laundry room with full intent to salvage it--made me NEVER want to inhale again, the one that now stands as evidence proving raisins and rainbow sprinkles aren't always easily digested . . . I just couldn't muster enough strength and courage to clean it.  Yes, I double and quadruple bagged it, sprinted outside in the midnight hour in my bathrobe and bright yellow rubber gloves to the garbage can, and whispered, "Byebye, Soft Blankeee, it was nice while it lasted." 


Bright Idea: 
If people can buy a look-alike fish or hamster to replace one that died, surely I can replace a blanket? Right? Good for me I just found out about a mom blog offering a blankee giveaway. Check it out at 3underthree. The offer ends Monday, March 23. There's still hope. 


Posted by Laura