“If you’re gonna get sick, might as well get sick at a McDonald’s inside a hospital with five sleep deprived doctors staring at you.” – Dylan
Three days ago, Ava had her first of two post-op check-ups with her Ortho in Jackson. It was one of those days destined to be perfect (or so I thought). I loaded up Ava, the boys, the wheelchair, and a pink polka-dot backpack filled with diapers and wipes and snacks into the van and we headed out on our trip. All of the kids were being quiet (shocker!) and we managed to leave early (and ASTRONOMICAL shocker!) As far as I could tell, Ava’s newest incision had been healing exceptionally well. There was no dark scarring, and it seemed “sealed” and without any topical infection. I felt such a relief. We’d been cooped up for quiet some time until that point. Being at home didn’t exactly bring freedom because she still remained quarantine and bed bound until Dr. Haber could clear her to do more. On the way there, my boys, Dylan and Connor, did very well. Connor and Ava took naps and Dylan read the entire drive to Jackson – that’s every mother’s dream kids, right? Too bad I had a wake-up call!
Ava’s appointment was scheduled for 8:40 AM. We pulled into the parking lot at exactly 8:30, however, it took me 16 minutes to wake Connor up, unload the wheelchair, load Ava’s “stuff” into the carriage part of it , seat her in it and buckle her, wake Connor up again, tell Dylan to take is ear buds out and leave his iPod in the car, change Ava into a fresh, drool-free shirt, demand Connor come inside with us, and then cross the parking lot and get inside the building. I’m always running late, I’m just never actually late. I get where I’m going quickly…so the fact that we’d left early that particular morning and still managed to walk in 6 minutes late totally made me have heart palpitations. Dylan rolled Ava to a seat in the waiting area and I pulled all three of our insurance cards out. I handed them to the receptionist and he asked me what doctor we were seeing. It was then that I realized we had arrived at the wrong clinic – OOPS! You see, Ava sees one primary pediatrician and three specialists. This is the smallest list of doctors she’s ever had at one given time during her life, yet I still managed to make a hassle of it. I finally answered the man, “Well, not a doctor that’s here!”, and then quickly shuffled my children back outside before I could hear them all laughing at me (oh, yeah…you know they did!!) Fifteen minutes later, we arrived at the CORRECT clinic, and my children exploded. Connor decided he would rather be “anywhere in the world than at a baby hospital with annoying babies everywhere.” Dylan decided he’d rather be anywhere than near Connor and Ava, and Ava decided she would rather be anywhere than sitting in her wheel chair. That’s when I snapped this shot:
You all know how long it takes to see a doctor and that you never actually see them at the time scheduled. Well, at a hospital as large as the one Ava goes to, you’re lucky to even get to see the doctor is you’re as late as we are. With that being said, we waited and waited…and waited some more. All the while, I noticed Connor sleeping A LOT.
It wasn’t “normal” sleeping, either. He wouldn’t budge and he wanted me to carry him. He totally relapsed into toddler mode and I didn’t know what to do. I thought it had everything to do with the fact that all three children were bored and irritable and freezing their tushies off (silly hospitals have to keep it SO cold!) I felt like a terrible mom, and thought feverishly about how to make it up to them. After her appointment, (everything looked great!) the solution came to me. UMMC has a McDonald’s inside of the hospital, and a multi-level parking garage with the top level fully exposing the sky, tree tops around it, and a full access view of the rooftop emergency chopper landing pad. I just knew my boys would love it, and at hearing the idea of it, they did! We loaded everything again and left the free parking lot for the parking garage and drove to the top. Dylan picked the perfect spot, and while I unloaded Ava and her things again, the boys looked around in awe at being on top of a roof with a view. Funny how easy it is to impress children isn’t it? We walked across the street in a glass walled bridge and made our way back into the hospital. The McDonald’s is on the first floor, but the boys wanted to ride the elevator, so we made an excuse to visit a nurse friend and headed up and down the bottom five floors of the children’s hospital wing and then finally headed towards McDonald’s. On the elevator, Connor told me he was freezing. By the time we got to McDonald’s he was trying to take his shirt and pants off because he was so hot. That’s when I realized he was feverish. =( I picked him up, asked Dylan to push Ava, and we rushed to two in-hospital pharmacies until we found one that sold children’s ibuprofen. His fever went away in minutes, and I thought we could make it through our meal. After all, the day had been a long one and I just wanted my babies to be able to do something fun. I ordered the food at McDonald’s and sat all three children at a bar near a table of doctors (I don’t know why...but doesn’t that just seem safer?) as I waited on our order. Again, Connor fell asleep. I brought our hotcakes over and sat down with the kids, and just as soon as I could ask how he felt, Connor puked ALL OVER ME. I tried to turn the plastic lid of the hotcake plate into a makeshift puke pot but there just wasn’t enough time. Seeing Connor sick, me being stressed to the max, and both of us covered in puke didn’t stop Ava from laughing. I looked up at Dylan for help, with his latte and skinny jeans and face to serious to belong to a kid his age. He looked right past Connor and said, “Well, if you’re gonna get sick, might as well get sick at a McDonald’s inside a hospital with five sleep-deprived doctors staring at you,” then went right back to his breakfast.
Now of course, after the fact, this is a funny story for me to share. Connor got better and I got cleaned up. But I tell this as a reminder to all of you who mother’s who feel as if I have been given a greater responsibility than you because I have a special needs baby. I haven’t. Yes, Ava is a different kind of responsibility, and that can sometimes be challenging and often times scary. But the truth is, given the choice, most days I’d rather be anywhere than in McDonald’s covered in puke, even with sleep-deprived doctors at our rescue. Kudos to you, Mommies. We are all super heroes. =)
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