If it looks like a spider bite, and hurts like a spider bite, then by golly it must be...

So we're in the fourth day of the fourth month of 2011 and have already completed our THIRD visit to the ER. Are we on a roll or what! Thursday evening, I notice what looks like a pimple, a whitehead, on Tate's tummy. Weird. I keep an eye on it and the next night, whitehead is gone but it looks a little bigger. Huh. I clean it and add some antibiotic ointment. Saturday, um, it's kinda getting bigger. More ointment. Sunday, I hit up the Queen of Medical Second Opinions, my next door neighbor, who convinces me this is in fact a spider bite and to keep an eye on it. That night, I add ice to my regime of ointment, draw a circle around where it's spread and promptly make an appt with the pediatrician for the AM. Hey there, Doctor, my son has a spider bite and I need some medicine. "Mrs. Smith, I know you don't want to hear this but that's no spider bite. I see three or four of these a week and they all come in saying they have a spider bite. What this is, is.... MRSA". *Gasp* WHAT!!!???!!! MRSA?? Isn't that where people have to walk around wearing masks? Isn't that uber contagious? Isn't that...Gross? Off to Brenner's Children's Hospital we go. At this point, I have my own parking spot and they greet me by name. Two hours, a dose of "happy juice" and a small surgery later, we're outta there. By far, the most hysterical trip to the ER EVER. They seriously have got to bottle up this happy juice for parents. Surely it's available on the black market. And I wanna find it. Tate was trying to climb over on Roger's back like a spider monkey (no spider pun intended). We convinced him he actually was on Roger's back even though he clearly was not. He looked at me with glazed eyes and said, "Are you the doctor. Get me outta here." According to the docs, he was singing them his ABCs and repeatedly saying "I"m not gonna look, I'm not gonna look" as they were cutting. He then sat straight up, wobbled a bit, and proclaimed his love for soup. I seriously need to get my hands on this stuff. Off we go - Drat! I don't have any cash for parking! (remembering the last visit where I had to put a $20 in the auto pay machine and receive the change in ALL QUARTERS) Roger, smart one that he is, seeks out the vending machines where sure enough, he finds an ATM. He calms me down over the $2.75 surcharge (I hate ATM surcharges and hate even more that people actually pay them instead of using their own ATMs) At check out, the nice lady asks if we have our parking tickets. Puzzled, I told her I left it in my car. Turns out, they now validate parking. SCORE! 'Bout damn time! Now that I consider ourselves "pros in the ER", I'm so super excited about this! Yes, that's sad. Till next time, friends.

E.R. The Sequel

The day was Wednesday, Februray 9th. Just after dinnertime. In the mail, was a bill from Owen's visit to the ER last month. $515 due. Roger and Owen are playing soccer so it's just me and Tate hanging out. It's bathtime so I take the bandaid off of his toe that I put on the night before after his bath. It looked like he had a small bruise on his big toenail and it was bothering him. Bandaid off. Infected toe on! Probably one of the most nastiest things I've had to deal with (thus far) as a mother. I make a quick call to the neighbor for a second opinion. She suggests I call the on call nurse. Thank goodness I did - I watch the toe turn purple and fester as I am on the phone with the nurse. Redness infection is creeping up his foot. Guess where we're headed! Roger and Owen head home and I quickly ship Owen next door for a sleepover with Nini. TGFGN (Thank God for Great Neighbors!) Five hours later, antibiotic via IV, draining of nasty toe gunk, and $7 of quarters in change from the stupid unmanned parking exit, we are out of there. Waiting for bill number two and praying this will keep us satisfied for the time being.

A Dented Head

So today I really felt Parentally Challenged. Truly. Schools were closed due to the icy weather so I piled the kids into the car to take Owen to the YMCA. After a pretty treacherous drive, we finally reach our destination only to find out it was closed. Argh! Lesson 1: Check YMCA delays/closings depsite the fact that every single correspondence from them boasts about availablility on snow days! I decide Owen will have to come to the office with me so we trek back to the house to fill up on supplies: Nintendo DS, video games, DVDs, books, crayons, notebooks. Next stop, Mudpies, to drop off Tate which opened 2 hours late. Back to my work where I make Owen promise to keep his trap shut and play his game so we could all get our work done. I don't know how many warnings later, but I finally decided to make him a tent to hide in so he could play his game. Quietly. I secured the blanket over the ledge with two heavy paperweights. One was a heavy cube celebrating my 5 year anniversary with the bank 5 years ago. This lasted...3 minutes? As he's exiting the tent, blanket pulls down along with paperweights. On his head. Blood. Blood everywhere. And a deep puncture in my baby's head. Lesson 2: Don't use paperweights to secure play tents to keep your child quiet at the workplace. Ever. Just don't do it. Trip to the ER, vomitting in the waiting room, two CAT scans, Owen is perfectly fine. Just a little dented now. Now here's the rub. The YMCA opened at 9. One half hour after we toured their icy parking lot. One half hour would've saved us blood, ER visit, CAT scan, mommy's heart breaking, hospital bills. And a dented head.