The Weekend Update: Strep, Stitches, and Tendonitis

23 Sep


This weekend started off with an absolute bang on Friday night.  Friday night my daughter had a dance program directly after school, and when I picked her up from the after school program I could tell something was a little off.  I asked her what was wrong and she said, “Nothing, my throat just hurts a little bit.”  I didn’t think anything of it but I made a mental note to make a salt water rinse when we got home.  While she was performing I could tell something was wrong.  She looked so lethargic out there and when she the show was over, I went to hug her and she was burning up.  Even though I promised The Boy Frostie Moose for being patient, we headed to the Urgent Care with 5 minutes before they closed (I hate ER’s).  Once we got all checked in, the nurse told us The Girl had a fever of 101 and shortly thereafter told us she had strep throat.  Great.  After packing up the crew, I headed over to the Walgreens near my house to pick up her prescription, I discovered something that the hair of every parent with sick children stand up.  There was no drive through.  Yes, ladies and gentlemen, that meant that I had to take a cranky three-year old who was LIVID that he wasn’t getting his Frostie Moose and a very sick little girl through the aisles and wait for them to mix up the amoxicillan.    After picking up new tooth brushes, Junior Motrin (where did the time go?), and a years supply of Puffs Plus, her prescription was ready and I didn’t even get out of the door before I loaded her up with the antibiotic and motrin.  When I got home, I fried them the fish that I promised and then we all went to bed.

The next morning, I was happy to have just survived what seemed to be a pretty easy night.  The Girl’s fever was breaking, she was even up out of her bed playing her DS and I was entertaining cutting my yard and planting the rest of my mums.  If you want to make God laugh, make some plans.  While I was hanging clothes in my closet I noticed out of the corner of my eye The Boy was playing on my vanity.  I told him a million times to get down and he would but then he would go back to what he was doing.  Then it happened.  I heard the sound of ice tempered steel hit the counter top.  He finally got into my “boy scissors” aka my hair cutting shears.  To give you an idea of how sharp these shears are, you don’t even need to apply pressure to cut yourself.  Just brushing the skin across the blade with cut you long, short, deep and wide.  I quickly turned around and asked him if he cut himself.  He looked at me with those huge sad eyes and said, “No.”  The blood on my carpet told a different story.  He cut the side of his index finger and there was so much blood.  I applied pressure to his hand and elevated it above his heart.  While this was going on, I was screaming for my sick daughter to get dressed and grab some pants for her brother.  While I am yelling like a crazy woman holding the bloody hand of a terrified three-year old I am also trying to get dressed.  This was a fail, as I have not mastered being able to get dressed with one hand while adverting blood staining my clothes.  We finally made it out of the house, me in my “laundry day” American Eagle sweatpants cutoffs and a Nike shirt with the slogan “Damn I’m Good” (the irony) emblazoned on the front and my children wearing apparently everything from the “donate’ bag in our house.  The boy was going to live.  In typical male fashion, the cut did not seem to hurt so much any more when the nurse showed up.  It seemed like it was going to work out, until they said the word “stitches.”  We have been on the stitches rodeo before and the last time I me and two nurses had to damn near sit on him to get him to comply.  This time would be no different.  He knew exactly what the lidocaine was and he went nuts.  I had to put him in a bear hug and rub his head, while he yelled like we poured gas on his wound and set it on fire.  Once that was over and he was placated with two grape Popsicles, I headed back to Walgreens for wound care supplies and you guessed it, we had to go inside.  My son knew this was his moment to get everything he ever dreamed of and my daughter looked downright irritated.  He began to throw a fit in the Halloween aisle because I would not buy him a costume.  There were threats of not being my friend (ha!) and declarations of me being mean.  Stitches or not I was not buying an Ironman costume for the low price of 30 dollars.  Once we finally got back in the house, my motivation to do any kind of yard work was gone so I did what I do best. Read and slept.

The next morning as I was chugging along with my day watching my kids both heal up from their respective illnesses, I was walking up the stairs and then it happened.  A sharp pain floated up my knee cap and knocked the wind out of me.  As I continued to climb the stairs the pain got worse.  Since it rained the night before, I assumed this was the transient pain I would have from time to time when it would rain.  Boy, was I wrong.  Over the next three hours the pain got worse.  It became more of a throbbing pain and after using my rice sock and tiger balm with no relief, I went to the ER (thank God for insurance).  Again, since I was in pain, we all showed up to the ER looking a hot mess.  This time The Girl had perm rods in her hair as she had the beginnings of a sickening twistout developing and The Boy was wearing corduroys and flip-flops, because I had no fight in me.  It turns out that I do not have bursitis (diagnosed by my baby sister back in 2010) I have pateller tendonitis.  The ER was the bomb as he is a marathon runner, so he could understand where I was coming from, runner to runner.  Tendonitis is an overuse injury and even though I was feeling great one week post half, my poor knee just gave up yesterday and needed me to have a seat.  I am following up with an orthopedic doctor this week so I can get cleared to resume my training for my next race on November 9th.

This weekend was eventful to say  the least and I am happy that The Goons and I survived it!  Next week we are going to try pumpkin patch life at Cox Farms.  Wish me luck!



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