As I mentioned yesterday, Casey has an infection on her leg. Its on her upper thigh area and she told me last night (when it was too late to go to the immediate care) that she couldn't wear panties. Um, well, that's not good.
So, this morning, I took her to the pediatrician, where the nurse practitioner (who we completely love) took a look at her leg. Wait, back up...
When we pulled into the parking lot, I noticed that all of the windows to the waiting room were wide open. We live in Georgia. Its 90 degrees and steamy here already today. Having the windows open? Yeah, usually not your first choice.
When I signed her in, the receptionist told me that their air conditioning units had been stolen yesterday. Stolen. Who steals air conditioning units??? (My mother informed me that drug addicts steal them to sell the copper wiring. Um, ok.)
So anywho, the nurse practitioner took a look...and made the same face that I made last night when I saw it. My immediate reaction was that it needed to be lanced and drained. Perhaps I should have gone into the medical field because that is exactly what she thought too. So she said this. Out loud. Where Casey could hear her.
I'm sure I've mentioned it a time or two, but Casey is terrified of the doctor. She is also a horrible patient. Not only does she scream at the top of her lungs, but she also fights whoever is trying to do whatever to her. Shots for kindergarten? Yeah, Chris and a nurse had to lay down on top of her.
So we calmly explained that she was going to make a small opening with a needle and get all of the yucky stuff out. It would hurt less than shots. Casey wasn't buying it.
She began screaming bloody murder, and hyperventilating. I tried to calm her and reassure her, bribe her...absolutely nothing worked. So then we moved to scare tactics and guilt.
You're scaring the other children here. There are babies and they are scared because you are screaming.
If don't let her drain it, you'll have to go to the hospital and they'll put a needle in your arm and leave it there.
At this point she was screaming things like...
I feel like I have to run!!!!!
I have to go potty! I have to go potty!
I am so nervous!
I'm going to have bad dreams!
Don't! Don't! No! No! No! No!
I wish I was Chandler! I wish I was Chandler!
Then she would get creepy calm and say, "This is making me have to go potty. Can I go to the bathroom for a minute?"
Um, nice try, but no.
First the nurse practitioner tried to press it with a Q-tip (with Casey screaming, "Q-tips don't Huuuuuuuurrrrrrttttt!!!!!") but really needed to use the needle. At that point, Casey clenched her whole body and twisted her legs up around each other so that you would need the jaws of life to get to the wound.
Please keep in mind that they had no air conditioning. I kept having to wipe my upper lip so that the sweat wouldn't drip into my mouth. It was awesome.
Casey asked again to go the bathroom. The nurse practitioner explain that she was sitting on a pad and if she had to pee pee a little bit it would be ok. Casey responded with, "Well, how do you feel about poop?"
It became clear that the nurse practitioner wasn't going to be able to do any more. So she stopped, wrote us a prescription for an oral and topical antibiotic, instructed us to have Casey soak in a warm bath twice and day and we have an appointment to come back on Wednesday afternoon. If it doesn't look any better, she may have to send us to a surgeon to get it drained.
All I have to say is that Chris is taking her to the next appointment.
We left our little room and walked back to the receptionist's area to pay. Casey insisted on going out to the waiting room to use the bathroom out there. And then she threw up. All over the carpeted floor in the waiting room. In a place with no air conditioning.
And this is why we are their *favorite* patients.