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.
