It's always something

Thomas currently has a persistent, low-grade fever. This fever has been especially fond of him and has stuck around for 3 solid weeks. 2 weeks ago, a mere 7 days after the fever started, I took him to our pediatrician. Let me first remind you just how much Thomas hates going to the doctor. The poor kid has seen WAY too many of them in his short lifetime and it takes only the sight of a stethoscope to set him off like a car alarm.

-- AAAAH!!! AAAAHH!!! AAAAHHHHH!! AAAAAHHHH!!!!!!--

That's actually what he sounds like - and he is almost as difficult to silence.

Our pediatrician pronounced him fit, except for a virus that's been going around causing a fever and no other symptoms. Motrin and Tylenol, the Wondertwins, would take care of it. Bring him back in 10 days if he isn't better.

10 days later he isn't better and we are at my parents house. Naturally.

Off to the clinic at the hospital. This is where it gets, eh, interesting. The doctor here walks in the exam room where we are waiting. Thomas starts screaming like I'm amputating his arm without anesthesia. The doc and I proceed to have a conversation over the shrieking.

"So, any symptoms other than the fever?"

-- AAAAH!!! AAAAHH!!! AAAAHHHHH!! AAAAAHHHH!!!!!!--

"No, he seems to be fine other than that. But it's been 12 days now and-"

--AAAHHHHH!!! AAAAAAHHHH!!! AAAAAHHHHH!!! AAAHHHHH!!!--

"-he is still feverish. No coughing, nothing else-

--AAAAHHHHH!!! AAAAAHHHHH!!! AAAAAHHH!!! AAHHHH!!--

The doc checks his ears, listens to his heart and his chest - and how he could possibly have heard anything I'll never know - and orders a chest x-ray. Heh. This is really taking longer than I thought.

We step into the radiology lab and I lay Thomas on the table and they--

--AAAHHHH!! AAAAHHH!!! AAHHHHH!!!! AAHHHH!!!--

-get two pictures of his chest. We go back to the exam room.

45 minutes later Thomas is calm and happy because we've been left alone by all medical personnel since the x-ray. I'm pretty seriously irritated at this point. I spy the roll-y stool that all exam rooms have, sit down on it and put Thomas on my lap and we head out into the hallway to count things. Thomas loves counting things. We spend a couple of minutes rolling up and down the hallway counting the light fixtures when Hey! Whaddaya know! Our nurse goes to find our doctor!

5 minutes later our doctor announces his chest is clear and here are some antibiotics. Come back if he's not better in a couple of days. Ha. That rolling down the hallway counting things is good for getting the attention of people not otherwise paying attention.

Unfortunately, the antibiotics didn't work. Back to the Clinic.

Today's doc orders a CBC and urinalysis. ARGH. An army of nurses comes in to draw blood and-

--AAAHHH!!! AAAAHHH!! AAAHHH!!! AAAHHHH!!!--

-after sticking both of Thomas's little arms they get a vial of blood to take to the lab. Another nurse comes in-

--AAAAHHH!! AAAAAHHHH!!! AAAHHHH!! AAAAAHHHHHH!!!--


-and tapes a little bag over his, erm, privates to collect some pee. Seriously.

45 minutes later yet ANOTHER nurse comes in to get MORE blood because the first batch clotted.

--AAAAHHH!! AAAAAHHHH!!! AAAHHHH!! AAAAAHHHHHH!!!--

She checks the baggie - the kid's on pee strike.

The doctor shows up and-

--AAAAHHH!! AAAAAHHHH!!! AAAHHHH!! AAAAAHHHHHH!!!--

-brings me a power bar and a Diet Coke. I love him.

30 minutes later and still no pee. I'm getting a little desperate at this point because I really just want to take. Thomas. home.

The CBC comes back and the doc comes in to tell me-

--AAAAHHH!! AAAAAHHHH!!! AAAHHHH!! AAAAAHHHHHH!!!--

-that Thomas has a virus. Motrin and Tylenol should help the fever, otherwise there's nothing they can do. He cancels the urinalysis, which is convenient since the kid STILL HASN'T PEED.

We are home now and Thomas will start psychotherapy tomorrow for the emotional damage inflicted by medical personnel this past week.