How 4 Hours Can Feel Like 24

[WARNING: L.O.N.G. Post and a bit of a rant]


Well, I took Witt for his allergy testing yesterday. Man, what a stressful day all around.

First, of course, I have to time the whole nursing thing perfectly as I am not one to nurse in public. (I have NO problem with those who do, I just don't). The allergist is an hour away so I plan to get there early and nurse before the appointment. Turns out, I got the wrong directions off the computer and had to call the office and get directions from where I was (another 15 minute drive). So, I'm there about 15 minutes early (which was the time I had set aside to fill out paperwork since he's a new patient). Good thing Witt is an efficient nurser and we made it on time. (I do not like being late.)

Of course there is paperwork. Lots and lots of paperwork. "Fill out these four sheets and then return them to me. After that, fill out this packet of information regarding the episode and your family history. If you don't finish the packet before you get called back, just take it with you and give it to the nurse when you are done." Ok, picture me with my humongo diaper bag pulling out my PDA for contact information and my wallet for insurance information so I can fill out the mounds of paperwork while holding a burping baby. Go ahead, chuckle... I'll wait. :0)

So, we get called back and I load everything back into the diaper bag and bring my paperwork with Witt. I finish the paperwork and change Witt's diaper so I look like a good mom that never has a kid in a wet diaper (jk!). So we play a little and laugh and have a good time and then... holy moley does it ever stink in here. We have a winner! Luckily I am prepared with another diaper and a ziploc bag!

The doctor comes in and we have about a 3 minute chat about what happened. She listens to his lungs and tells me that she is sending Witt to the lab to have blood drawn. They'll do the tests for peanut, milk, egg white, and egg yolk. On babies, they like to test the blood first because there is a possibility of reaction with the scratch test. If it comes back negative, they'll have to do the scratch test anyway (because of a lot of false negatives); but if it comes back positive, they won't. (I can see the logic in it so I go along with it.) As she walks out the door, "Oh, since you are breastfeeding, you need to stay away from peanuts and milk, too." Oh man! I can handle the peanuts, but milk?

I call Jeff, who is watching Nathan since MIL has the "day off", to let him know we just need to go down to the lab for some blood work and we'll be home in about 1.5 hours. Good! He needs to get some things done at work in the afternoon.

Well, that didn't happen exactly as expected either. First another nurse comes in with information about the epi-pen and shows me how to use it with a trainer pen (no needle or drugs). Thankfully, she gives me the trainer so I can take it home and show Jeff and MIL, too. Making conversation, I tell the nurse that my dad should carry around an epi-pen, but he says he'd die before using it; he is deathly afraid of needles. I laugh. She looks sternly at me and says that he probably would die of an anaphylactic reaction if he doesn't use it. (This I know and so does Dad, it's kind of a joke, but not really - either way, I'm not here for a lecture; just trying to make conversation. sorry.)

So Stern Nurse proceeds to tell me that I need to go this lab or that lab. What? You don't have a lab here? Ugh. Where are the labs? She tells me where they are as I look at her blankly and tell her I'm not from around here. She continues to say (in a condescending voice) "Well, it's just on the corner of such-n-such" (I guess they are well known roads). I tell her again, "Not from around here. You are basically telling me to go to the corner of road A & B. I have a poor sense of direction, can you start me off from here and tell me how to get there?" The response, "I have a poor sense of direction, too. Do you know where the hospital is?" Turns out that yes, I do because that's where I got lost this morning! I can get there. I ask for a phone number in case I do get lost and she looks like I just asked her to change a dirty diaper. Ugh. "I'll just ask the lady up front."

The lady up front easily gives me a phone number in case I get lost. We load back into the truck and off we go. Witt falls asleep along the way. I finally find which entrance to go to (it's a Women's and Children's Hospital). I leave Witt in his car seat and lug him to the building. (He weighs about 18 lbs and then the carseat is 10, I think - so yes, I'm lugging.) 3rd floor - lab. ELEVATOR!!!! Alleluia!!!

I'm third in line at the lab. Now as a mom with a sleeping baby, I notice a couple of annoyances: the door bangs when it closes and the lab techs literally shout for the next person "Number 72 go to room 3! I'll be there in a minute!" Witt makes it through all the noise and continues his nap as we are shouted at that it's our turn. The lady in the room starts her data entry (she shouts, too - don't know why I'm standing right there!) Here's the conversation:

Lady: Is his first name Wittman?
Me: Yes, it is spelled W-I-T-T...
Lady: So is his last name ***?
Me (confused because it is sitting there on the paper in front of her): Yes.
She looks confused and mumbles to herself.
Lady: What's his social?
Me: I don't know. I left the card at home.
Lady: Was he born here at this hospital?
Me: No
Lady: Where was he born?
I tell her and she looks very displeased.
Lady: And he doesn't have a social?
Me: Yes, he has one. I don't have the card with me.
Lady again displeased.

While this annoying conversation is going on, Witt is waking as the nurse is checking for veins. Ok, truth be told, I was really hoping it was just going to be a heel stick to get blood like when he was a baby. Oh, no. Little veins, little needle, little tourniquet. So sad.

He sits in my lap and I hold the opposite arm down. She sticks him and then... nothing. No blood. Witt is SCREAMING HIS HEAD OFF! I don't know what's going on. After what seems like an eternity I finally say, "This has got to be hurting him!" The nurse promises she's not digging that he just keeps moving his little arm in the wrong direction and the needle is missing the vein. Not digging? Are you serious? She assures me that he'll sleep well on the way home. Again, are you serious? I DON'T CARE! I want him to stop being in pain! I'm really contemplating telling them to stop and that we'll just do the scratch test another day instead.

Finally, she pulls the needle out and they call another nurse. She comes in checks both arms, grabs a new needle and heads back to the original arm. She's in!! Thank you! Two vials and we're done! And out of there! We should have the results in about a week.

We head home and Witt does in fact sleep on the way home. We get home just in time for the next feeding and for Jeff to head back to work. The End.


Update: With all that said, let me just add that there is a good possibility that not everyone was as terrible to Witt and me as I thought they were. :)