When we arrived home from the beach last weekend, Kendrie started complaining that her stomach hurt. I figured she was tired and out of sorts from the vacation (and a little bit of a whiner) and that once she got a good nights rest she’d be fine (and quit whining). She was still complaining about it the next day, and the next. I started to wonder if perhaps she had swallowed too much ocean water (maybe when I fell on her and trapped her entire head underwater because I was laughing so hard I couldn’t get up?) or that maybe, she really *was* a big ole’ whiner.
When she was still complaining on Friday, I started to take her seriously. I didn’t think it was appendicitis because her appetite was fine and no nausea or vomiting. I knew she wasn’t constipated (no need to explain, but, well, I just knew) and by the same token, no diarrhea or fever, so I wasn’t sure if it was a virus. (You’re really glad you checked in today to hear about all these bodily functions, aren’t you?)
But six days is a long time for a child to consistently complain of stomach pain, so I figured even if she WAS the world’s biggest whiner, it was time to take her to see a doctor. Naturally, I made this decision at 2pm on Friday when her regular pediatrician had no appointments left, so they sent us to the local Med-Stop.
I felt a little silly explaining to the nurse, “No, her appetite is fine, her activity level is normal, no fever, no vomiting, no nausea, no diarrhea … just complaining of a stomach ache.” It didn’t help any that Kendrie’s lips and tongue were electric blue from the Push-Pop she had just consumed and she was carrying a soft drink, and I’m pretty sure the nurse attributed her stomach ache to all the crap I obviously let her eat.
Then the doctor came in and wow! Talk about good looking! With exclamation points! I was so distracted, staring at his piercing blue eyes and dashing, rugged looks that I almost forgot why we were there. And on top of being a total babe, he was kind to Kendrie, and gentle, and did I mention how good looking he was?
He turned to me and said that her colon felt slightly full (What? She just pooped at Wal-Mart, right before the Push-Pop, I swear!) and that he wanted to test her for strep throat.
And I thought, “Oh, my beautiful, beautiful vision of manliness in scrubs …. You are obviously not very bright. It is her stomach that hurts, not her throat. I guess it’s a good thing you’re so pretty, since I don’t think you listened much in medical school. In the meantime, would you like to take me out to dinner or let me have your babies?”
But what do you know … the kid had strep. And he said he’s seen several kids this past week who have complained of stomach pain, which they get when the strep slides down their throat and into their gut and leaves them with a little ulcer or gastritis (or something scientific like that … once I found out he was right, I was too busy admiring God’s perfect combination of Beauty AND Brains to really pay attention.)
Anyway, he sent us home with prescriptions for Miralax once a day for the constipation, which Kendrie took while she was on her cancer treatment, and Zantac, twice a day, which she also took while on treatment. She’s also on antibiotics, three times a day, for the strep and once again, it looks like an Eckerds threw up in my kitchen.
You might remember that when Kendrie would take her nightly chemo, this is the face that greeted us each evening for over two years of therapy:
I should say, she’s really grown since then … matured …. developed a much more stoic and calm manner.
I *should* say that, but I’d be a bold-faced liar, since we’re right back to the fussing and complaining and whining every time we tell her it’s time to take medicine. It’s going to be a loooooooong 30 days. But hey! Grandma Betty will get stuck with the last half, so looks like I got off easy!
The Zantac, especially, she hates. It’s peppermint flavored, and she despises it. With big, pathetic crocodile tears. Which I guess it’s good to know that she won’t be sneaking fifths of Peppermint Schnapps into Sonic Route 44 jumbo cups of Sprite when she’s in high school (not that I would know anything about that … ahem). And in the meantime, she’s got 48 hours worth of antibiotic in her so we can once again leave the house without worrying about her infecting the entire community. Thank goodness, since we have an exciting, exciting day planned tomorrow. Um … yeah, exciting. I’m only taking the kids to see Surf’s Up, but at least it will get us out of this house, and for two brief, glorious hours I won’t have to listen to her whining about taking the medicine. And yes, that IS exciting.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go scatter some banana peels about my kitchen floor and accidentally slip on one and sprain my ankle so I can spend the rest of the evening gazing at my new doctor at Med Stop. Wonder if my insurance will cover drooling???