I would rather be at work

Have you heard of the game, "Would you rather?" The whole game is picking the better of two not-so-fun alternatives. I play the game all the time in my head. Sometimes both alternatives really suck: Would you rather go to the gynecologist or GI specialist? It's kinda funny that whenever work is paired with anything else, I always choose work.

I'm one of those weird people who likes work more than most things. Would I rather work or go to Jamaica for a week? Work! Factor in travel, heat, and hotels, yes, I would gladly pick work over a supposedly 'relaxing' vacation.

It's no surprise, then, that I would have preferred to stay at work than take Julia to the allergist appointment today. It truly sucked. A good point is that S went with me.

We get there at 1:30pm. We get into a room by 1:45. Not so bad. Here's the interesting part - Julia weighed 18 lbs, 12 oz today after being 18 lbs, 1 oz last Wednesday. But...she hadn't eaten before her appt last Wednesday, and she had just drank 5 oz before we went in today. The nurse interviews us - we get 10 minutes in, and then she gets called away to take a phone call from Multicare. So we wait. For about 15 minutes. She finally comes back, and then she tries to get Julia's oxygen levels. Ha! If you try to attach any piece of equipment to Julia, you encounter the wrath of Julia. Much screaming commences. She can't get a good reading because Julia is screaming, flailing, and being her 'spirited' self. She gives up.

Then we have to wait for the doctor. He doesn't come in until almost 2:30. Our appointment was at 1:30. We're all starting to get claustrophobic being in the tiny room.

He finally comes in, and I get the vibe that he's like my OB. Authoritarian. Oh, can his ego even fit through the door? He asks the same questions the nurse asks. I tell him that we're here because she's failure to thrive, weak eater, and the endoscopy showed white blood cells. If it all possible, we'd like to figure out what she's allergic to in order to avoid those foods.

He says that he will only do the skin test and igE blood test (RAST). There are some other blood tests available (igA and igG), but he doesn't do those. He's concerned about false positives, and they aren't allergy tests. Some difference of opinion there.

I don't think Julia will go into immediate shock if she eats a specific item. It's more of the delayed fussy tummy stuff that I think affects her. They did the skin prick test, which she didn't like so much. Then we had to wait, yet again, another 15 minutes to see if she had a reaction. Not surprisingly, none of the 5 things he skin tested her for were positive. We leave the office with a stool test (to see if her poop has blood in it - one sign of allergy), and we go off to the lab for the gluten and RAST test. The time is 3:30. Two hours into the ordeal.

We get to the downstairs lab, and there's only 1 person waiting. Yes! And then we wait, and wait, and wait. Usually I can wait for a bit, but we have already been at the doctor's office for 2 hours. My patience was running thin. Suddenly the room fills up. There's a couple with a 3 year old and a newborn. Julia is intrigued by the 3 year old. He's running around, and she's laughing at him. Then I set her down, and she's chasing him in her baby way, which isn't very fast. After all, she's been walking for a month, and he's been walking for 2 years. They're playing, and it's kinda cute. Then she falls. She falls all the time, nothing new. Then she starts crying. I say, "Julia, get up. You're fine." I go to pick her up. I'm holding her, and then S notices there's a pile of blood on her shirt. She opens up her mouth, and it's full of blood. Oh sheesh. She's screaming, we've been waiting over 40 minutes at the lab, we're approaching 3 hours for this whole ordeal. After 5 minutes, she calms down and is watching the other kid again and laughing.

It looks like her lower teeth bit into her upper gums. The bleeding's stopped. So crossing my fingers that everything's okay.

The lab technician finally calls us back. They need to get 3 vials of blood from her. I'm resisting the urge to tell them to take the blood off her shirt, her mouth, my shirt & her back. They get another person to help hold her down, and they draw the almost 3 vials. She's screaming the whole time, but S thinks it's more from being held down by all of us more than the pain from the needle.

Do you feel sorry for little J? She had her blood drawn, her first accident that drew blood, and the skin prick test? She had an all sorts of icky kind of day.

And that, folks, is why I'd prefer to go to work over going to the doctor any day.