Tuesday, August 20, 2013

Top 10 hazards of the doctor's office

Yessir yessir, it's a "hot" month here at the blogathon... Today's hot topic: I just got diagnosed with IBS, which pairs nicely with my Crohn's!  Yay!

Is there a less sexy diagnosis?  I mean, diseases used to have romanticized, almost pretty names even for lousy things.  "Consumption."  "Tissick."  Even "Rising of the Lights."  

But none of that, I have Irritable... never mind.  I'm going to get to drink fiber drinks just like me da.  :)

That's why I haven't been quite up to par on posts recently... I get dizzy and woozy during such flare-ups.  My state of mind could best be expressed in "pig Indian," the nonsensical version of my native ancestor's talk-talk: "Ugh.  Feel bad, worst in many moons.  Likum coffee, but it no likum me.  Want sleep heap much.  Ugh."

Anyhow, from personal experience, today: the top 10 hazards of taking your children with you on a doctor's appointment.  Which, by the law of averages, will happen at some point if you have kids, however you try to avoid it.

1.  Elevator buttons

First things first: if you have more than one kid, they will fight over who gets to press the button. Every time.

2.  Magazines

As you discard Cosmopolitan and Redbook and hand out Parenting and Family Circle, you are also doling out ads.  For toys.  And new things that cost money.  They will take note.  "Oooo I want this!"

3.  The water cooler

Innocently placed in the most unavoidable location, this innocuous device is one of the most feared and dreaded challenges of the doctor's office avec l'enfants experience.  Some can be unplugged and will then be "bwoken," but others... hide the cups and muffle the screams, mama friends.  This one is tough.  Be prepared to handle a tantrum and hold five plastic cups while cleaning spills, changing clothes, and drinking absurd amounts of water, lovingly doled out by your doting little ones who are convinced, over and over, that "Mommy needs a dwink."

So that's the water dispenser... there several other types of dispensers, once you finally get in to see the doctor.

4. Sanitizer

Now available in nifty boxes which require only the wave of a hand (or standing under it the wrong way) for a child's handful of Purell to be wiped on the back of your shorts.  Because that will be the quickest way for them to get the stuff off their hands.

5.  Latex gloves

Your kids will love playing Doc McStuffins with several pairs of stretchy hands.  They can also make fine, creepy balloons when inflated.  Enjoyably chokable.  Now available in purple.

6.  Tissues

The good, ole' fashioned appeal of one of childhood's favorite dispensers, always in abundance here

7.  Sharps containers

No, they can't really get into those, thankfully.  But somehow, the sight of visible, infectious needles hanging over your child's head will not help your frayed nerves.

8.  The bright red box of hazardous waste

This ain't locked.  'Nuff said.

9.  Germs

I'm not really a germophobe, I just don't like germs and have a healthy respect for them.  And doctor's attract people with germs, who come with their germs, and leave their germs.  And kids have a magnetism to germs.

Why can't they make paper that actually fits the tables???  Why why why....

10.  The rolling chair

"Whhheeeeee!!!  Wahahahaha!!  Mine!  My tuuwwnnn!  WEEEEEEEE!"

Oh yes: if there's a mirror, they will lick it.  I would have taken a pic of that part too but at the time I was too busy trying to pulling them away from the glass, talking to the doctor, removing dancing preschoolers from the exam table, while trying to keep an attractive johnny on.

Stay well my friends, stay well.  And if not, may your children sit in quiet pairs, on chairs.


  1. The rolling chair and the germs. Those do me in. So much so, that I now try to find someone to keep the other 5 kiddos when I have to take one in to the dr. Egad. That chair!!

    1. Yep. And they always put their face right on the seat too, ugh...

  2. I think your oldest is about the same as my oldest (11). I just keep thinking 2 more years until she's old enough to babysit. Two more years...two more years...two more years...there IS light at the end of the tunnel and then I can happily skip off to doctor's appointments and stores sans kids.

  3. Irritable Bowel Syndrome?? To quote a fabulous old local TV show from my West Coast hometown, The Lame List: What's Weak This Week --

    "That, like, exudes lameness!"

    Can you drink tea?

  4. My dear, I can always drink tea. ;)

  5. Oh, good. I'm sending you some Soothing Caramel Bedtime Yogi with a whole sheaf of way too wordy prose. My three-year-old just made me a cup of the former (really. It was with cold water, but still) and I can attest that it is really quite soothing. I bought the box for you but my husband rifled it to make me a cup of tea while I was watching Pride and Prejudice the other week. It is very difficult to complain under these circumstances.

  6. You've hit 'em all. Mine play with the cotton balls and tongue depressors too. And the walls are paper thin, so everyone can hear us as we wait in the exam room.

  7. What about when they open the door at the worst time and/or open the door and run down the hall into whatever room they can find? Or play with the cool bendy light? Or climb onto then jump off whatever surface is reachable?