As further proof that I'm unfit to be a mother, Ava is terribly sick. That's not my fault, and I know that, but I'm having a hard time dealing with her. Five years, three kids, and this is my first real issue with this business. She's had diarrhea for two days now, she won't eat, she won't drink, and she just lays around crying. Now, I know she feels bad. Terrible. I know she doesn't understand what's going on, and she can't help it, but come on! TAKE A DRINK! TAKE A SHOWER! HAVE SOME TOAST! YOU'LL FEEL SO MUCH BETTER!!!
Moms aren't supposed to think those sorts of things!
Then, while she's sitting on the toilet crapping her brains out and sobbing, she literally BEGS me to let her go to school!!! What the heck are you talking about Ava? You can't even sit up straight! She really loves that place. Ugh.
Then, against my better judgement, I took her to the doctor. I KNOW BETTER THAN THAT!!! The doctor rolled his eyes when I asked for some Imodium and told me that I need to just let it run it's course. That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard, I don't know why old school docs say that! I mean, Meryl, I could be wrong, maybe it's just with chemo diarrhea, but there's no real need to keep doing it, right? It's not like the virus is living in her stool and she's gotta get it all out. Little Imodium would just slow things down, let her colon absorb some more water, and she'd have a firmer stool. Is that really such a terrible thing to want? I better stop. I forgot one of my (four) readers is a doctor. Oops.
Regardless, after he told me he refused to treat her symptoms, he wanted to start an IV and give her some fluids. Let me rephrase that. He wanted his three family practice HNs, with no floor experience, to start an IV. On my five year old. My five year old with the arms of a three year old. Who's already extremely dehydrated with no veins. And when I said no, that if they wouldn't let me do it, we were leaving, they threw a fit and told me I was putting her in danger. Uh, let's cut the drama here boys. One of them said "Look, it's doctor's orders, we don't really have a say in this, we HAVE to start it."
Well buddy, I certainly have a say in this. Outta my way. I got her a can of iced tea (no friggin Gatorade or water in the entire hospital vending machine system) and dumped it out and got her some water. She drank it all in about twenty minutes in his office, and then he said we could go. Assface. She drank another half can on the way home and was all peppy and fun and promised that she'd eat some toast when we got here.
But now she's laying on the couch crying again and saying she doesn't feel good. And instead of feeling sympathetic, I just want to shake her and cram some more pedialyte down her throat.
And to make this even MORE fun, Nick was so super late on Monday that he only saw the kids for an hour before bed. He left for duty on Tuesday before they were up, spent the night on the boat, and won't be home tonight (Wednesday here) until after dinner. This is ridiculous. This is not the life I signed up for! I don't care how good the money is, I don't think we can keep this up. I need help at home here!