Well, it’s been awhile since I’ve a.) had a minute to sit down and bang out a blog post and b.) actually had something to blog about.
Other than essential oils–DING! DRINK, TIMMAN!
Anyways, this week has been crazy, and last night just added to the craziness of it.
This girl right here
started complaining that her tummy and her back were hurting last night.
And then she began crying because her tummy and back were hurting so bad.
We had her do the normal things parents do when kids complain of tummy issues, and she was still in pain. She kept pointing very high up on her stomach–pretty much on her sternum.
So, I loaded her and the baby up in the car at 7:30 at night and took them up to urgent care.
On the way, the daughter was chitchatting happily in the backseat, and I was thinking, “Once we make it to the urgent care parking lot, I’m just going to turn around and head back home. This child is fine.”
However, as we neared the urgent care, the child started crying hysterically again and complaining that her tummy and back were hurting.
Alright. You win, lady.
The doc and a nurse came in and looked her over while I explained what was going on.
“It just really made us concerned because she was pointing so high on her stomach when we asked where the pain was,” I explained.
The doc noted that she went pale every time her tummy started hurting and decided an x-ray was needed. He told me it would be a few minutes before they could get her back.
While we sat in the germ-infested room, watching some cartoon that was on the tv, the child announced, “I HAVE TO GO POTTY!” while crying again.
We headed over to a bathroom where…not much happened.
We walked back to the germ-infested room, watching some cartoon that was on the t.v. Not five minutes later, she announced, “I HAVE TO GO POTTY!” while crying again.
We headed back over to the bathroom where…a LOT happened. A LOT.
She immediately announced, “I FEEL SO MUCH BETTER!” and skipped back to the room.
The x-ray tech came in to take us back, and I said, “Well, I think we won’t be needing the x-ray. I think she just helped herself, actually.”
She sent the doc back in (meanwhile, daughter is just hap-hap-happy as a clam now, watching cartoons), and I explained what had just taken place in the restroom.
“Well, good. Sounds like she’s fine then after that monster poop.”
I can’t make that up. A medical professional said that to me.
Because, you know, the medical terms were just FLYING around that place.
So, doc–how much are you going to charge me for that scientific diagnosis?
We loaded up and headed home.
While on the ride home, the skies above us opened up, and a torrential downpour dumped itself on us.
While I was driving on the highway in Kansas City, America.
Now, some people look like this when it’s raining
But I look more like this
So, I slowed down to 40 mph (which I thought was living dangerously at that point since I couldn’t see the lines on the road), and I had cars (and semis–my favorite!) WHIZZING past me in the left-hand lane.
My favorite was when a motorcycle cop went whizzing past me at 80 mph. In the torrential downpour.
Anyways, as I’m putt-putting it down the highway, praying and singing as loudly as I could, a semi comes up beside me in the left-hand lane.
As he flies past me, I notice that the truck suddenly disappears.
I’m talking, I can’t see the truck seconds after it passed me.
So, I realize that all of his lights suddenly went off…or out.
The term “ghost truck” ACTUALLY entered my brain while I was trying to sort out what happened. And then I thought, “Did the truck just get hit by lightning, and now the electrical system has failed?!”
While I’m thinking these ridiculous and irrational thoughts, suddenly something starts crashing around on my windshield–while I’m still driving in the torrential downpour thinking about ghost trucks.
I start screaming, “IS IT A TREE BRANCH?! IS THERE A TORNADO?! WHAT IS HAPPENING?!” aloud in the car while hitting the brakes.
And that’s when I realized that my windshield wiper had decided to snap almost in half and was hanging on by a thread–just enough to let it flap wildly around on my windshield in the downpour.
And I wasn’t even close to being home yet.
So, for the rest of the trip I fought rain so hard I couldn’t see, huge trucks that were flying past me, and a whacked-out windshield wiper that was violently flapping around and not helping me see any better.
By the time we got home, my adrenaline was through the roof, and my nerves were completely fried.
And both kids were sound asleep in the backseat.