I figured I'd start a new thread for one of those weekend sentiments that is not covered by the other perma-threads in here, yet we all know happens far too often: when your good times are blown out of the water by things you can't ( :dunno: ) control.
All my weekend plans went down the drain this weekend because of a sick kid. We had to take my son in to see the doctor every day this weekend. First, on Friday, we went to a smaller clinic to see "Dr. Nick" (name changed to invoke proper Simpsons image), who took a quick glance at my son and declared (in best Dr. Nick accent) "your son has sore throat, I prescribe antibiotics, OK?"
An hour later we're at home, and attempting to give said antibiotics to our sick and very unhappy, autistic son. "Dr. Nick" had assured us that the liquid zitromax "tasting yummy for the children" so we just assumed that the hour-long struggle was due to his autistic stubbornness, and attempted to force the stuff down.
It didn't work. He spit it all out, and after a call to the pharmacy, spit out the second dose and consequently, sentenced himself to another visit to the doctor. Out of curiosity, I put a tiny smear of the stuff on my tongue and HOLY ****! That stuff tastes like rat poison!
So we bring him to see the "real doctors" the next morning at the hospital, who take a look at him and say "well, he might have an ear infection, so we'll give him a better-tasting antibiotic." Which he did drink, after maybe only a 20-minute struggle each time ( 5 ml, 3 times a day) involving holding his arms, legs, and head immobile. But by this time, he doesn't trust anything pink coming at his mouth in a srynge (all kid's medicine is pink. WTF?), and because his fever is still peaking out in the 103-104 range, he needs to be taking tylenol and motrin every couple of hours, in addition to the antibiotics. Not fun. For any of us.
Then yesterday his fever hits 104 again, and my wife and housekeeper both jump all over my ass, as if it is all my fault somehow ("You're not worried enough!"), and we bring him back. After 4 hours, blood samples, and a disasterous series of chest X-rays for no good reason (because he is freaking out and won't sit still, so let's do it again!), we're told exactly what I figured all along - he most likely has a virus, he's in pretty good shape, just take him home and continue (literally) forcing the medicine down his throat. All of it. Just to be safe, you know....
And then of course, the final medicine application before bedtime last night, Sunday night, becomes the worst so far, and we ALL blow up at each other, even the housekeeper and my 11 year old daughter jumped in on it. I think he spit out every bit of the Motrin.
At any rate, he seems to be fine this morning, I think because it has been 6 days now and the virus has finally run its course, but in keeping with the motive of this thread, MY WEEKEND IS SHOT!
:smileyballs:
Feel free to share how your weekend plans came apart.
:suicide:
All my weekend plans went down the drain this weekend because of a sick kid. We had to take my son in to see the doctor every day this weekend. First, on Friday, we went to a smaller clinic to see "Dr. Nick" (name changed to invoke proper Simpsons image), who took a quick glance at my son and declared (in best Dr. Nick accent) "your son has sore throat, I prescribe antibiotics, OK?"
An hour later we're at home, and attempting to give said antibiotics to our sick and very unhappy, autistic son. "Dr. Nick" had assured us that the liquid zitromax "tasting yummy for the children" so we just assumed that the hour-long struggle was due to his autistic stubbornness, and attempted to force the stuff down.
It didn't work. He spit it all out, and after a call to the pharmacy, spit out the second dose and consequently, sentenced himself to another visit to the doctor. Out of curiosity, I put a tiny smear of the stuff on my tongue and HOLY ****! That stuff tastes like rat poison!
So we bring him to see the "real doctors" the next morning at the hospital, who take a look at him and say "well, he might have an ear infection, so we'll give him a better-tasting antibiotic." Which he did drink, after maybe only a 20-minute struggle each time ( 5 ml, 3 times a day) involving holding his arms, legs, and head immobile. But by this time, he doesn't trust anything pink coming at his mouth in a srynge (all kid's medicine is pink. WTF?), and because his fever is still peaking out in the 103-104 range, he needs to be taking tylenol and motrin every couple of hours, in addition to the antibiotics. Not fun. For any of us.
Then yesterday his fever hits 104 again, and my wife and housekeeper both jump all over my ass, as if it is all my fault somehow ("You're not worried enough!"), and we bring him back. After 4 hours, blood samples, and a disasterous series of chest X-rays for no good reason (because he is freaking out and won't sit still, so let's do it again!), we're told exactly what I figured all along - he most likely has a virus, he's in pretty good shape, just take him home and continue (literally) forcing the medicine down his throat. All of it. Just to be safe, you know....
And then of course, the final medicine application before bedtime last night, Sunday night, becomes the worst so far, and we ALL blow up at each other, even the housekeeper and my 11 year old daughter jumped in on it. I think he spit out every bit of the Motrin.
At any rate, he seems to be fine this morning, I think because it has been 6 days now and the virus has finally run its course, but in keeping with the motive of this thread, MY WEEKEND IS SHOT!
:smileyballs:
Feel free to share how your weekend plans came apart.
:suicide:
Last edited by a moderator:
