We were up, dressed, fed, and out the door at 8am this morning. Binky for the babe and Starbucks for the mama.
I have mixed emotions about visiting the Children's Hospital. I absolutely love the valet guys. The guy who took my ticket was this smooth-talking, smiley, Rico-Suave Hispanic guy with a thick accent: "Oh, yes, good morning mam. I hope you are doing very well. It is a beautiful day, no? Enjoy the rest of your morning, we will have your vehicle waiting for you." I half expected him to kiss my hand when I handed him the keys. And then the guy who retrieved my car could have been a stand in for Hugo from Lost. I was impressed at speed and agility. I had never seen anyone fold up a stroller and pack it in the trunk that fast.
On the other hand, going to Children's gives me flashbacks of Avram's shunt surgery, and how scared I was. I can't help but expect to be handed bad news when we go there, especially since I had already convinced myself, of course, that Avram was completely blind and would probably require multiple eye surgeries. It's also so sad to see all of these kids in wheelchairs, with walkers, bald from chemotheraphy, missing arms or legs. But you know what? They're always so happy and sweet. That's another blog for another time.
We sat in the waiting room for a solid half an hour, and most of the kids were really well-behaved. Avram was fed and happy, so he was content to sit in my lap and people-watch. There was a TV with Mario 64 set up, and I was so close to kicking kids off so I could play. Paul & I used to come home from school and find my mom playing that game by herself in the living room. We also fought with her over our Gameboy on vacations.
Then, this weasely little kid, maybe 3 years old, JUMPS on to the kids' play table, and breaks it. Snaps a leg clean off. And his mother starts screaming at a nurse, "This is not safe! This table needs to be removed immediately! Don't they screen this equipment before putting it in waiting rooms?"
Seriously? Your kid jumped on a table. In public. While other kids were sitting there, coloring and minding their own dang business.
It was quite a fiasco. They brought up HR people to talk to her and offered her all kinds of free stuff. Whatever, crazy woman.
We finally were called, and Avram had to get 2 sets of eye drops in each eye. The nurse said that they would sting, but he was such a big boy. Didn't even flinch. Another nurse came in and did a preliminary screening, flashing all kinds of lights in his face, and said he looked great, and that the doctor would be in shortly.
Sure enough, the doctor came in. She also shined a bunch of lights in his face, pulled his eyelids up, and made him look in all these crazy directions. And he was glorious. He totally pulled out the charm today.
After no more than three minutes, she said, "Well, his eyes are perfect" and gave me this look like, "So...why did you bring him in again?"
I beamed. Avram burped. And he got some really slick shades to wear home.
So, Avram's eyes are perfect, and he doesn't need any follow-ups with the ophthalmologist. The Lord is good. One specialty-doctor down, 4 to go. I feel like someone took a big ol' rock out of this load I can't seem to get off my back. We're a little bit lighter today.
the little dude