better safe
About a year ago, I noticed this strange brown mark on Lexi's neck. Like a birthmark, that arrives in 3rd grade. It had a funny shape, crouched in the soft part between her clavicle bones. I studied it for a while, worried. I googled and panicked and took her straight to the doctor.
Living with a chronic condition had made me paranoid. I knew I was paranoid, but couldn't stop myself. I think Cobain was right.
Dr. Generous came in and took a look. She dug through her drawer, her back to me. I cringed, picturing a biopsy, a trip to the hospital. Crazy. Crazy. Motherhood nightmares. Until the doctor turned to me and laughed. The cure? Rubbing alcohol, to buff away the congealed dirt patch. Her neck was dirty. Dirty.
Talk about feeling chagrined.
Dr. Generous tried to soften the blow. I mean, I had just spent $15 and my mental health for someone to wash my daughter's neck. She said it's an uncomfortable place to scrub, that I shouldn't be chasing my kids around with a washcloth at this stage. She made me laugh. She shouted down the hall to the nurse, something about how she was a miracle worker.
We left feeling sheepish, Lexi was ashamed. I stopped her in the parking lot and looked her in the eye. It's better to laugh with the doctor than to wait. Better to listen to your body. Better to take care of yourself.
And then I teased her about her filthy, sweaty neck and took her for ice-cream.
Living with a chronic condition had made me paranoid. I knew I was paranoid, but couldn't stop myself. I think Cobain was right.
Dr. Generous came in and took a look. She dug through her drawer, her back to me. I cringed, picturing a biopsy, a trip to the hospital. Crazy. Crazy. Motherhood nightmares. Until the doctor turned to me and laughed. The cure? Rubbing alcohol, to buff away the congealed dirt patch. Her neck was dirty. Dirty.
Talk about feeling chagrined.
Dr. Generous tried to soften the blow. I mean, I had just spent $15 and my mental health for someone to wash my daughter's neck. She said it's an uncomfortable place to scrub, that I shouldn't be chasing my kids around with a washcloth at this stage. She made me laugh. She shouted down the hall to the nurse, something about how she was a miracle worker.
We left feeling sheepish, Lexi was ashamed. I stopped her in the parking lot and looked her in the eye. It's better to laugh with the doctor than to wait. Better to listen to your body. Better to take care of yourself.
And then I teased her about her filthy, sweaty neck and took her for ice-cream.
*****
Technorati Tags:Mrs. G, seeking medical attention, nablopomo, motherhood
Comments
That is pretty funny though. A $15 spit wash! haha.
It's hard to know what is an emergency or not - if I take them to the doctor I know I am overreacting, if I don't I fear that they have something that everyone else would have recognized. Welcome to motherhood. Better safe than sorry.
I've had 'boy that was a waste of time trips to the ER' and have had...'gee you're kid is worse off then you thought and take him to the ER' moments...you just can't win as a mom!