Four Hours at the Walk-In Clinic And...

I came home after my two week tour of most of the Western United States and my visit to two universities' college of pharmacy programs, and I found a house full of sick girls. Madison had started antibiotics for a double ear infection the Sunday I returned, and Emma has had a cough on and off for almost three weeks. And finally comes Allison. Poor Allison. She was sick the day I returned, and she only got worse as the week went along. She went to work on Monday, slept all day Tuesday and Wednesday, and went back to work on Thursday. She was so sick that she stayed in bed all day Friday and finally decided that she was sick enough to visit a doctor the following day.

Saturday I was working, so Allison had to work up enough energy to take both the girls (both getting over from their own sicknesses) to the walk-in clinic. When they arrived at the walk-in clinic, they were told it would be a two-hour wait. The kids were tired and started arguing, and then Madison started getting nasty. A time-out later and three-and-a-half hours of sitting in the waiting room, Allison and the girls get their own private room and... wait some more. When the doctor walks into the room, he feels her lymph nodes, looks at her swollen uvula, comments about the blisters in her throat, and starts asking questions. Allison answers that her throat hurts, and the doctor interrupts her with this brilliant question, "Have you tried ibuprofen?"

At this point, Allison doesn't answer, but Emma does. Now please remember, Emma is only FIVE YEARS OLD. It may have something to do with her daddy trying to get into pharmacy school or the fact that they've invested four hours of their Saturday to this clinic, but this is how she responded to the doctor: "Ibuprofen?!? She's taken ibuprofen! If ibuprofen was working, do you think we'd be here?!?"

The doctor looked at Emma, then at Allison, wrote the prescription for antibiotics, handed it to Allison, and walked out. I mean, how else can you respond to a five year old implying the question, "How many years of college did it take you to learn how to ask a question like that?"

I love my kids, but sometimes I wish that the mute button on the remote worked when we were out in the community and very clever one liners come booming out of their mouths like they're on stage at open mic night. Allison started her antibiotics and will hopefully be feeling better soon, and if I need to visit the doctor because I can't shake all the germs the girls gave me, I won't be visiting said walk-in clinic with Emma.