Craziest Mom on the Block

It's no secret that I can be a bit high strung intense. And I may or may not be gifted with the ability to overreact at the slightest thing. It's who I am. I have a flair for drama. I always jump to the worst possible conclusions. This is a story of one of those times. Be forewarned, it's about puke. If you have a weak stomach you may want to skip it.

1:30 a.m. Tuesday morning. I was woken up by an loud cross between a moan and a cry. Stellar mom that I am, I thought the cat was getting in a fight in the garage. It was only when Patrick jumped up and ran for Andrew's room that I realized, "Oh crap! That strange noise is my child." I bolted out bed after him and pretended like I knew it was Andrew all along. Score point one for me. Word of advice: no matter what, even if you're clueless, never let anyone else know you don't know what's going on.

Andrew was laying in bed bawling and saying his stomach hurt. He looked at us and said, "I called and called but no one came. I tried to get up, but I couldn't walk." Wow! Not exactly my finest moment as a mom. As a consolation prize, I carried him into the bathroom. And after what seemed like forever, I finally got him moved to the couch. The next few hours were a blur of puking, and awful, freaky Japanese anime, middle-of-the-night cartoons, and me trying to shine a flashlight down Andrew's throat to look at his tonsils between the puking because I was convinced and desperately hoped that he did not actually have a stomach virus but instead, had contracted strep at school. How sad is it that I'd rather my child have strep than a stomach bug? Score point two for me. I have an intense hatred for stomach bugs. I have an intense love for amoxicillan. It fixes things fast.

Around 5:00 a.m., I decided, after not being able to get a good look at Andrew's throat, to google strep symptoms in (and yes I was this specific) five year old boys. I was trying to determine if the symptoms change from three years old to five years old. I've said it before, and it remains true, I should not be allowed on any medical websites or message boards. In my delirious meanderings through the internets, I stumbled across a story of a girl whose parents failed to treat her for strep and she died of heart failure. So five hours into this illness, I became paranoid that Andrew was going to develop rapid onset heart failure from undiagnosed strep. Nevermind that the internet clearly stated that in order for this to happen treatment would have to be delayed by more than a week. Score point three for me.

I asked Andrew approximately 2700 times if his throat hurt. He told me approximately 2700 times that it did not. He was so miserably sick to his stomach that I decided to wait and see before I drug him to the doctor. This is where I should've let him stay, but around 2:00 p.m. I noticed that his ears were incredibly red. When Andrew runs fever his ears turn a beautiful scarlet red. So I took his temperature (for the hundredth time), and it was almost 101. At this point, I become convinced, once again, that this was indeed strep and made a desperate call to the doctor's office. I'm surprised they don't screen my calls. I really am that crazy, but instead, they graciously offered to work him in. I dumped out my bathroom trashcan, put on a bra and a clean t-shirt (because those things matter), forced my child into the car, and shoved the trashcan into his lap. He gagged and moaned all the way to the doctor's. When we got there I carried him and his trashcan right smack into the middle of that waiting room. We cleared a space of at least ten feet around us. No one wants to sit within spraying distance of a puking child. Score point four for me.

They got us back relatively quickly. Probably because we were freaking everyone else out. The nurse did a strep test which surprise! made Andrew puke. That was super cool and not at all embarrassing. "Ummm, excuse me can someone watch my son while I go empty this puke in your bathroom? K . . . thanks." I was that lady. The idiot one who takes her puking for 12 hours child to the doctor and exposes 25 other people to his illness. But when the doctor came in, and she looked at Andrew's throat she said, "Wow! Those tonsils are really big, and that throat is definitely red. You did the right thing mom!!!" Yes!!! Score point five for me . . . for real this time. Of course, then the stupid strep test was negative, and the doc said it was viral. But his tonsils were swollen and his throat was red and it was more than your run-of-the-mill stomach bug. I was right . . . just call me Dr. Davis.

Anyway, I hauled the kid back home where he suddenly acted like he'd never been sick, ate two pieces of toast, a bag of goldfish, and a bowl of soup. Typical. And just so you know, the strep culture was negative too. But, by the time I got the call, I had pretty much figured it out for myself. Like I said . . . Dr. Davis . . .