Last night the Divine-Forces-that-be decided that I missed the hospital too much so I needed to go back and pay a visit to the E.R. You know, for old time’s sake.
Only this time I got to take my son as the patient so I could just look on helplessly and wring my hands.
Oh Divine-Forces-that-be, sometimes you are a real kick in the pants.
Here’s what went down. On Monday I took Will to his pediatrician because the outside of his ear was red and incredibly swollen. It looked a little bit like he was turning into a red Incredible Hulk but only in his ear.
(Will’s asked that I don’t show you any pictures and so I’m respecting that by keeping this post illustrated-free. Not to mention any photos might scare young children and I’d hate to make them cry.)
The next day, despite medication, the swelling hadn’t gone down. In fact, by four o’clock the swollen bits had turned a bit of a purple hue.
Our pediatrician told us to go to the emergency room post-haste. And so we post-hasten there in our trusty minivan after I rearranged the forty million things I was scheduled to do that evening.
At the E.R. whenever the staff asked why we were there, my son simply turned his head to show a bulging, angry, red ear. Their eyes would widen and across the board they all said, “Whoa!”
Again, I would like to go on record saying that when you impress seasoned medical professionals, it’s never a good thing.
When the staff numbed and made tiny cuts in his ear so the infection could drain out, my son was a real trooper. It was only has they began to squeeze his poor, mangled ear that Will began gripping the bed with his clenched hands.
To distract him, I told Will I was taking him out for a hamburger after this was all over. My son is obsessed with hamburgers right now, probably because he’s going through a growth spurt that’s causing us to consider putting a second mortgage on the house in order to buy enough groceries to feed him.
For a while the hamburger ploy worked, but as they continued to express junk from his ear, he finally shouted out in a strangled voice, “Whew! My pain sensors are really working overtime now!”
This made everyone chuckle, so Will had about thirty seconds of respite before they started in again.
We finally got to leave a little while later, with a prescription for a second antibiotic and a caution that Will’s ear might need to be lanced a second time.
As we walked to the car, Will choked out, “I can’t seem to stop talking in this weird voice. I think I’m in shock. I need to elevate my feet!”
I gave him a hug and told him that not only had he earned the biggest hamburger on the menu, but I was also going to get him some french fries as well.
Will’s head perked up, his breathing evened out and he asked in a slightly more normal tone, “And a root beer too?”
Children are the most opportunistic people I know. Even when they have Incredible Hulk ears and need their feet elevated because they are in shock.
The End. (For Now.)