I e-mailed one of my best friends this morning and told her that I had survived taking Punkin to have two vials of blood drawn and giving him a suppository. "I have entered a new level of mommyhood."
I guess I can thank the fever for taking my normally flopping-like-a-fish five-year-old and turning him into a petrified-zombie-but-still-ready-to-flip-out-at-any-second five-year-old; at least the zombie part gave me a head start to calm him.
The doctor called ahead and warned the lab at the hospital that we might need several adults to help, so there was a nurse in addition to the woman drawing blood. It was a nice thought, and would have been helpful, except that she was one of those people who insists on talking to kids in a high-pitched voice and poking their belly-buttons. Also, she called Buzz Lightyear "Bud" Lightyear even after being corrected. Punkin spit on her.
Thank goodness Oma came along. Who would I have rolled my eyes at otherwise? I think the sing-songy nurse thought I was mean because I calmly told my son, "They're going to poke you right here in your arm and it's going to be a little bit ouwie. But mommy will help you. Mommy will hold you."
"It won't really hurt, honey," she retorted.
HE IS FIVE. YOU ARE POKING HIM.
I held him on my lap with his legs between mine, Oma held one arm, I held his body, the extra nurse annoyed us, and we all survived!
We got home and Punkin asked for the five hundreth time to go potty and couldn't, so I decided it was time to suck it up and give him a suppository like the doctor suggested. It worked immediately and he obviously felt more comfortable right away. A few minutes later he asked to go to bed.
His doctor called and told me the blood tests indicated that he has some sort of nasty strain of the flu. He threw up in the middle of the night and I gave him a bath, but this morning his temp is down to 100.4 so I think we are on the road to recovery.
Have I mentioned that I love his doctor? His office called to check on him this morning and to make sure I knew to call if the fever lasted more than five days.
But it won't. It won't last. Because we have a plane to get on tomorrow at 3pm. A PLANE. A PLANE. A PLANE, I TELL YOU.
related: Prayers, Please