A Case of the Mondays

Warning:  MAJOR OVERSHARING IS ABOUT TO OCCUR.

Before I forget the details of this story, I want to write it all down.  This kind of thing doesn't usually happen to me.  It sounds more like a story Beth Anne would tell...

My Monday began about 1:10 am.  The all-too-familiar burning/urgency feeling awoke me from my sleep, giving me my first indication that I probably had a UTI.  I spent the next two hours in and out of the bathroom, trying to alleviate the burning/urgency/frequency symptoms.  If you've ever had a UTI, you KNOW what I'm talking about.  Miserable symptoms.  Sometime after 3:30 am, I was able to fall asleep.  When I woke up again, I noticed it was daylight outside and that (oddly) Scott was still in the bed.  On work days he is ALWAYS up pre-dawn.  I tapped him and said "What time is it?"  He groggily said "6:30....OH CRAP..." and bolted out of the bed.  He was on his way to work less than 10 minutes later.  Most impressive.

Within 30 minutes both kiddos were awake and chatting in their cribs.  I peeled myself out of my bed and began the morning routine of diaper changes, bottle and breakfast making, and interweb surfing.  As soon as my doctor's office opened, I was on the phone with them to see if they would call me in a prescription for antibiotics.  Sadly, they didn't want to call in a script for me.  They wanted to see me in the office.  Fun.  The first available appointment was at 1:30 pm.  I agreed to take that time slot knowing full well that is smack dab in the middle of both kids afternoon naps.  *Once again I refer you to the burning/frequency/urgency symptoms.  Feeling that way will make even the most schedule-nazi-mom wake up her sleeping kids to go to the doctor.*

We spent the morning at my friend Amy's house playing and hanging out.  As soon as we got home from there, I put James down for a much-abbreviated nap.  I fed Reese and put her back in her car seat, since we needed to leave very soon.  I grabbed a quick shower and packed us all back up to head out the door.  James was barefoot, sleepy eyed, confused, but thankfully pleasant as I plucked him from his crib and carried him to the car.  Off to the doctor we went.

Upon arrival to the doctor's office, there were no parking spaces right next to the building.  I had to park just a little jaunt away.  No big deal except that it was raining and I was wrangling two kids.  And I felt like I had to pee.  All the time.  I decided to forego the double stroller, which would have been easier for me not to have to carry a kid, but I didn't think it would FIT in the elevator or the exam room or really anywhere in the office.  I opted to put Reese in her car seat stroller frame stroller (still getting good use out of that Brandi!) and carry James on my hip.  Brilliant plan.  Off we went, through the rain, into the office.

I knew they were going to want me to pee in a cup as soon as I got there.  I also knew that would be an adventure in and of itself with James and Reese in tow.  Before I could even head towards the bathroom, I needed to put some socks and shoes on James.  Yes, I was that mom that had a barefoot old-enough-to-walk-toddler in public.  I sat down in the waiting room, dug his socks and shoes out of the diaper bag, and put them on him.  He was still groggy and didn't put up much of a fight.  Off to the bathroom we went.  The stroller, the toddler, and the momma all fit in the bathroom with some room to spare.  If you are supermom enough to provide a "clean catch" sample while holding your toddler, you are more supermom than I am.  I put James down to accomplish this task.  Mid-way through the "procedure", I look up to see him trying the door handle.  It's one of those lever-type door handles, not a door knob type.  Lever-types are easier for toddlers to open, in case you were wondering.  I tried not to scream "JAMES DON'T OPEN THAT DOOR!" while also trying not to make a huge mess with what I was doing.  James took his hand off of the door handle.

Phew.

After some hand-washing, the entourage and I left the bathroom and headed back to the waiting room.  My name was called rather quickly by the nurse.  She took me to the blood pressure/weight room.  There wasn't enough room for the whole entourage in that room, so Reese hung out in the hall.  She didn't seem to mind.  James was very concerned at this point that this appointment might, in fact, be about HIM.  I had to put him down again so I could be weighed.  He hit the ground running, beating feet straight out of that room and saying "CAR CAR CAR" as he went.  It was clear he wanted to leave.  I grabbed him by the arm and asked him to hold onto the stroller while I got weighed (that takes TWO SECONDS, you know), which he did.  He sat in my lap while I got my blood pressure taken and the nurse asked me questions about my symptoms and such.  As an indication of how distracted I was, I do not know what my weight or blood pressure were.  What woman doesn't pay attention to the scale when she's being weighed??  A woman who is trying to keep her toddler from running wild down the hall of the doctor's office, that's who.

Soon enough, we were ushered into the exam room to await the nurse practitioner.  Instead of sitting on the exam table, I sat down in the "guest" chair with James in my lap.  A couple of minutes after being put into the room, the nurse poked her head in the door to let me know I needed to strip from the waist down (my phrasing, not hers).  I said "Seriously??"

<sigh>

I did what she asked, situated myself on the exam table with the modesty sheet precariously draped around me and James in my lap.  Except he didn't WANT the sheet over him and kept pushing it aside.  I just sighed and left the sheet alone.  "Down! Down! Down!" he kept saying.  He didn't want to hang out with me anymore.  Fine.  I let him down from the table and hoped he wouldn't touch anything too icky in the exam room.  That wasn't going to be a problem, though, as I quickly learned.  Within the next minute or two, the toddler child POOPED.  

<sigh>

Of COURSE he's going to take this opportunity to poop and stink up the whole room when I'm half naked and any moment a nurse practitioner is going to walk through the door.  I grabbed the modesty sheet and finagled it into a wrap-skirt tucked in around my waist.  I procured my diaper changing items from the diaper bag and placed the stinky toddler on the exam table.  Right about the time I had his legs up by his ears, cleaning him up, the NP walks in.  I blurted out "Well I'm having just about the best day of my life, come on in!"  She laughed, no doubt to keep from crying from the smell stinging her eyes.  She kindly said, "Did he choose this moment?"  I said, "He sure enough did.  I'm so sorry for the smell!"  I told her I totally understood if she needed to go see another patient and come back to me.  She declined my offer to get away from the stench and instead asked me about why I was there in the first place.  I answered her questions while getting James situated.  No mention was made of my cute sheet-skirt.  She graciously forewent the invasive physical exam and said she would be back with a prescription for me.  I got re-dressed, she handed me my prescription, I wrapped the offensive diaper inside of four exam gloves and put it in my diaper bag, and off we went.

Wow.  What an adventure.  I tell you what, some of these things that I couldn't possibly have ever imagined before having kids, it's for the best.  I might have been too scared to do it had I known...

As a marvelous ending to this story, I'm just now realizing as I type this that there is a 90% chance that nasty-wrapped-in-four-gloves-diaper is STILL in the back of my car in the diaper bag.

<sigh>