My parents came up this weekend, and we had a really nice visit. Friday night, we took them to a cruise-in. Daddy enjoyed looking at the cars, and Mama enjoyed a chair across from the music store where they had live music and she could people-watch.
Saturday morning, they got to see Biscuit play baseball. They were pretty excited about that.
Then Saturday night, we took them to this country-cooking restaurant about half an hour away. The food is served family-style, and when you get finished eating, you can walk down to a barn to listen to live music.
We tried to call early in the day for reservations, but they said they don't take reservations except for large groups. So we got there about 6:30 and found out that some others had already been there an hour, and they were still waiting. An hour?
I don't deal well when I make a plan and it doesn't work out. I always assume that everyone is going to be frustrated or have a bad time or be disappointed. But the funny thing is that others usually take it a lot better than I do.
And that was the case Saturday, all except for Biscuit.
He walked around, sat on my lap, sat on Grandmama's lap, stood by Jeff, held Papa's hand, walked around again and was just generally irritable and restless.
After about 45 minutes, they called our name and apologized profusely for us having to wait. It was pretty warm outside on the porch, and we were getting hungry and grumpy. (Okay, I was getting hungry and grumpy, and I'm just assuming the others were, too!)
They put us in a small room off the main dining room that used to be a porch. And again, they apologized for putting us out there. Apparently, it was quite warm, crowded and noisy in the dining room, so I was perfectly fine with our closed-in porch seating.
I finally asked Biscuit outright, "Are you okay? Is something wrong?"
"Well, Mom," he said, moving his hand up to his ear. "My ear is hurting pretty bad, down on the inside."
Are you kidding me?! He had an earache and it never occurred to him to say so?
His eyes teared up, and I reached out my hand and said, "Let's go."
We had our drinks at that point, but the food hadn't arrived. I didn't care. I have this cool app on my phone that uses your GPS location to find things you need. It has categories like grocery stores, hospitals, banks, restaurants, hotels, pharmacies, etc. So I chose pharmacies and found one 3.63 miles away.
I strapped Biscuit into his seat, and off we went.
We took a beautiful drive as the sun was setting. The area is in the foothills of the mountains, so it was very scenic. We crested one hill and saw the sun starting to go down behind the top of a small mountain. I saw it and knew I should appreciate the beauty of it, but I was worried about my baby. He was in pain.
We got to the store, and I grabbed some ibuprofen and a syringe. I like using the syringes because I can get closer to the exact amount of medicine I should give him. We got in line to pay, and it was taking forever. Biscuit was leaning on me, then on the counter, and I was getting very impatient.
I tore open the syringe and medicine box. I ripped the plastic off the top of the bottle and drew up the appropriate amount. "Here," I said to Biscuit and shot that medicine right into his mouth.
The cashier looked at the open packages and then at me, and I was fully prepared to defend my actions, but there was no need. She looked down at Biscuit and said, "Oh, poor baby. He is feelin' bad!"
I paid my bill, and dragged poor Biscuit back out to the car. I strapped him in, and he dozed a little on the way back to the restaurant.
It was 8:40, and the restaurant closed at 9. I was fully prepared to find my family in the music barn, and I'd just get something to eat when we got back home. But Mama and Jeff were still sitting at the table. Since Daddy is the musical one, they sent him down to the barn to listen.
I sat down and looked over the table. There was fried chicken, country ham and BBQ spare ribs. There were green beans, potatoes, corn, pinto beans and stewed apples with cinnamon. And to top it off, there was hoe cake and cornbread.
Mama and Jeff were the only two people left in the little room. But then one of the owners came out.
"Honey, they told me about what's going on, and I want you to take your time and sit there and eat everything you want," she said. "Stay as long as you want. And let me know if you need anything."
It was such a nice thing for her to say. And I guarantee you that if I had asked for some hot chicken, she probably would have gone to the kitchen to make it happen.
But I was quite satisfied with everything that was left on the table. The food was SO good.
"If the food is this good cold, I can't imagine how good it was while it was hot," I said to Mama and Jeff.
While I ate, Mama held poor Biscuit. He couldn't keep his eyes open any longer and fell asleep on Mama. You don't realize how big he's gotten until you try to hold him!
I ate and ate and ate and finally called it quits. I was putting my silverware on my plate when Daddy walked in and said the music was over. Then we got in the car and drove the half hour back home. This place was on the backside of nowhere. You don't get there by accident, that's for sure.
Biscuit seemed fine Sunday morning, but by early afternoon, he said his ear was hurting again. We gave him some more drugs, and he asked if he could take a nap. Then Jeff and I had that dreaded conversation. "Should we take him somewhere to get checked out?"
I hate that discussion, especially on the weekend. I don't ever want anyone to think that I'm putting money before Biscuit's health, but when going to the ER costs $100 just to step in the door, you have to pause and think.
By the time Biscuit got up from his nap, he said he was feeling better. So we decided to wait until Monday morning.
He hasn't had a fever at any point, which is weird. He's never had an ear infection without a fever. I just assumed that maybe he got water in his ear or something. But when he woke up this morning saying it was still hurting, that was it. I called to make a doctor's appointment.
I left work early and took him to the office. Luckily, he was able to see his doctor. Sometimes on short notice, you have to see whoever is available. But Biscuit really likes his doctor. He talks to him about superheroes and explains what he's doing at every step. And he lets Biscuit ask questions.
Warning: This paragraph contains ickiness! The doctor said there's a bubble of fluid in Biscuit's right ear. It even has a little bit of blood in it. At some point, the bubble will pop on its own, and Biscuit will have immediate relief. Until then, we have to give him an antibiotic and pain reliever. Then he looked in the left ear and said, "Whoa! I'm surprised he's not feeling pain on this side, too. He's got an infection on this side, too."
Biscuit had almost non-stop ear infections the first year of his life, but since then, he's only had one or two. The doctor even commented on it. Other than colds and minor stuff, he's just not a sickly kid.
Which brings me to the next icky topic ... Other than a few diaper incidents when he was really little, Biscuit has never had diarrhea. And the doctor said this antibiotic could make that happen. So I had to have a conversation with Biscuit this evening about how he needs to keep that in mind. "If you feel like you have to go, DO NOT WAIT!" I told him. "You won't be able to hold it in." It was an odd and gross conversation, and the look on his face was pretty priceless. But I didn't want him to be surprised by it, especially if he decides to go back to school tomorrow!
We're very lucky that Biscuit has only had typical elementary school-type bugs and colds. And hopefully, this stuff will go away quickly, and he'll be feeling better real soon.
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