We had to take Biscuit to the doctor yesterday. He has had a cold for a little over two weeks, and I could just tell that it was starting to turn into something more serious. I feel so bad for him because at his age, he can't have a decongestant. So his poor little nose has been alternating between stuffiness and runniness for a little over two weeks.
Poor little man.
Biscuit loves going to the doctor. First of all, he gets to ride an elevator. Then once we're in the office, he gets to search through all the multi-colored chairs until he finds just the right red one. Have I mentioned that red is Biscuit's favorite color?
Once we get called back, we look through the horrible book selection. If you thought the 2-year-old magazines in the adult doctor's office were bad, multiply it by 1,000, and that's how bad it is to have to read a story about a fish who wants to go to school. There was no explanation about how the fish can live on land. There were two pages missing out of the middle. The fish had somehow evolved to the point that it could walk on its tail. And of course its face had shifted down. I guess if the fish is going to walk upright, his mouth and eyes can't be facing straight up.
All that to say that the time between getting called back into the exam room and the time we actually see the doctor seems like an eternity.
Biscuit is fascinated by all the gadgets and the whole process of getting checked out. He asks questions and chats with the nurse and doctor. And when he's unsure about whatever is about to happen next, he always cuts his eyes over for my approving head nod.
When the nurse called Biscuit's name yesterday, Jeff had gone out to the bathroom. So when we got back to the room, I asked the nurse if she could let Jeff know where we were. I told her that he was wearing a blue and white oxford shirt.
"What's his name?" she asked.
And before I could answer, Biscuit said, "His name is Jeff."
"And what do YOU call him?" the nurse asked.
Biscuit smiled and said, "Um, Jeff!"
"You don't call him Jeff," I said. "You call him Dad."
"No. I call him Jeff," Biscuit said. Personally, I think the boy was flirting with the nurse. She just smiled at him and made a big ol' fuss.
The doctor asked if Biscuit takes any medicine, and I told him he has some liquid medicine for his seasonal allergies. He asked how much, and I told him I use half a teaspoon.
"I thought it was 2.5 milliliters," Jeff said.
I just looked at Jeff, confused for a minute. "I thought the bottle says that ages 2 to 6 get half a teaspoon," I said.
The doctor laughed, then Jeff smiled at me. Then the doctor said, "Half a teaspoon and 2.5 milliliters are the same thing."
I just looked back and forth between the doctor and Jeff. "There's a reason I was an English major," I said to both of them. "Biscuit, do you hear Dad teasing me? Tell him it isn't nice to tease Mama."
"Dad, it's nice to tease Mom," Biscuit said, laughing. I can't believe my boys teamed up against me!
The doctor concluded that Biscuit has a sinus infection and said he should have an antibiotic. He scrolled back through Biscuit's file on his computer and asked, "Have you seen any other doctors?"
I explained that Biscuit's original doctor left the practice to teach at a medical school in Virginia, and Biscuit's 3-year-old checkup was the first time we had seen the new doctor we chose.
"I meant outside of this practice," the doctor said.
Aside from pink eye and his 3-year-old checkup, yesterday was the first time Biscuit has been to the doctor in over a year. It's also been that long since he's had to take an antibiotic. Apparently, not going to the doctor for that long is rare for a kid his age, and the doctor was surprised by it.
"That's a good thing, though, right?" I asked the doctor, only halfway serious.
"Yes, definitely. That's a great thing," the doctor said. "It's just unusual these days."
Don't even get me started on these Moms who haul their kids to the doctor every other week demanding an antibiotic for every little thing. But I digress.
The nurse had no idea that she was doing something so great, but she gave Biscuit a fire truck sticker when we left. And then, he got to ride the elevator back down. I'm going to miss the days when these little things aren't a big deal anymore.
Biscuit got two doctor kits for Christmas. One came with a character called Mr. Bump and has a stethoscope, otoscope, thermometer, blood pressure cuff and some other gadgets. The other one is a veterinarian kit. It came with a dog carrier with a stuffed puppy inside, plus all the gadgets to check out the dog.
So with his most recent doctor's visit done, Biscuit turned himself into Dr. Biscuit. Jeff had to cover a football bowl game last night, so I was the sole recipient of Dr. Biscuit's attention. I had my temperature taken, my reflexes checked, my heart listened to, my tonsils looked at and my blood pressure taken.
After Biscuit listened to my heart, I asked, "How did it sound?"
"Great. It sounds great," Biscuit said. "Can you open your mouth and say, 'Ah'?" I did as he requested, then Biscuit said, "That's very good, Mom. You did it just right." I'm a very good patient.
And Biscuit is a good patient, too. He takes his medicine without complaint and doesn't complain. Let's hope the medicine does its job and makes my baby better.
