Did you ever have one of those days? You know, when things donâ€™t go quite right and on this day, of all days, you just donâ€™t handle these things with your usual aplomb?
A day like, letâ€™s say a Sunday, of Labor Day weekend, and your family is at a cookout and your 2 Â½ year old son is on the swing set and you happen to notice that his right leg from the knee down is blue.
And it just doesnâ€™t seem right.
So you call the pediatrician, who, of course, isnâ€™t your regular pediatrician because itâ€™s the Sunday of a holiday weekend. You get the on-call pediatrician who doesnâ€™t know you or your son and is kind of attitudinous (yes, thatâ€™s a word) with you because he, too, is probably enjoying a picnic or cookout of his own and doesnâ€™t (really) want to be bothered.
But he listens to your story and starts asking more questions.
Lots of the same, repeated, unnecessary really smart doctor-y questions that you have, yes you have havenâ€™t yet answered.
After thoroughly explaining the situation, my concerns, the background, my attempts at diagnosing the problem and about 15 minutes of dismissive and â€œI donâ€™t really want to deal with youâ€ attitude from the doctor I am more than a little agitated.
The conversation begins to deteriorate on my end and the doctor continues the questioning (and my answers become the soundtrack to the party as I get progressively louder and eventually drown out the music, or at least it seems that wayâ€¦)
â€œLike I SAID, I just noticed his leg is blue.â€
â€œNope, NOT the whole thing, just BELOW the knee.â€
â€œNope, itâ€™s NOT paint. I KNOW what paint looks like.â€
â€œNope itâ€™s NOT chalk, I KNOW what chalk looks like.â€
â€œYup, I tried to wipe it off, ITâ€™S STILL BLUE.â€
â€œITâ€™S NOT RIGHT!â€
â€œCan you just LOOK at it?â€
â€œIâ€™d like you to look at my sonâ€™s leg.â€
â€œUmmm, yes. Itâ€™s BLUE!â€
At this point Iâ€™m so frustrated, Iâ€™m crying. Thinking, I guess, that if itâ€™s a circulation issue it really should be taken care of quickly and timeâ€™s-a-wasting while Iâ€™m on the phone arguing with the doctor. I just want him to listen to me and check out Jâ€™s leg.
At some point he says, â€œWhy are you crying? What exactly would you like me to do here?â€
And I say (shout), â€œI WOULD LIKE YOU TO STOP BEING SUCH A CONDESCENDING F*^&ING A$$HOLE AND STOP TALKING TO ME LIKE Iâ€™M AN IDIOT AND LOOK AT MY SONâ€™S LEG!!â€
Apparently that outburst let him know just what kind of crazy he was dealing with. We made arrangements for him to meet my husband and J at his office so he could figure out what was wrong. Â (Is anyone surprised I didnâ€™t bring him myself?)
Forty-five minutes pass and I get a call from Greg, â€œDonâ€™t worry, heâ€™s fine, weâ€™re on our way back. Iâ€™ll explain it when I get there.â€
Iâ€™m relieved but cannot imagine what happened, what did the doctor find out? Whatâ€™s going on with Jâ€™s leg? My mind is racing.
My husband returns to the party and pulls me aside.
He tells me the doctor has determined it was not life threatening, there was no circulation problem; J was going to be okay.
â€œSo, what did he do? What is it? How did he figure it out?â€
Through a smirk and eyes a little bit teary from trying to hold back the laughter, my patient, calm and kind husband says, â€œHe wet a paper towel and wiped away the blue Popsicle stains.â€
This post is a follow-up to my review of The Mother of All Meltdowns. You could win your very own copy of MoAM The Book by entering below. If you donâ€™t win you could also purchase a copy on Amazon. Facebook and twitter links are included in the entry form.
Thanks for visiting â€œSo, Iâ€™ve Been Thinkingâ€¦â€ Iâ€™d love to hear about your meltdown in the comments!