Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Waiting Room Attack

Monday was Preston's 18 month well baby check appointment. A few days late of 18 months so it was more of a 19 month appointment.

It did not go well.

I should have hightailed it home when I checked in and the receptionist told me that our pediatrician was running about 30 minutes late. Of course he was. We'd arrived about five minutes early for our appointment as opposed to the five minutes late that we've arrived to every other appointment. Karma? Maybe. I was irritated.

Then I looked around both halves of the waiting room. It was packed. With sick people. I know, most people who go to the doctor are sick. That doesn't mean I want their germs. And yes Preston had a runny nose, but I was still hoping that it would stop at that and just go away. How was that supposed to happen if we were surrounded by contagious, germ filled, sick people for the next 35 minutes?

We found a seat off in the corner by some toys and the fish tank. More Preston found our seats since he didn't like the first place we sat down and raced over in that direction. He was playing nicely with the toys and I thought maybe this wouldn't be such a horrible wait. Time flies when your having fun in the pediatrician's waiting room right?

I spoke to soon.

A little girl of about 3-4 years old wanders over to the large toy that Preston is playing with. Not a problem, it's big enough for the both of them to play with it. I'm sitting only a few feet away, so if there was a problem I'm right there. But this little girl looks friendly enough, she won't hurt my little boy.

And she didn't. But Preston looked up at her playing by him and decided he didn't want to play by her he wanted to play with her. In the blink of an eye, he runs over to her side of the toy laughing as he goes. This is where it gets ugly. Preston then wraps his little arms around her waist and pulls her down. Granted she lands on top of him so her landing was cushioned, but her face shows her terror.

Preston on the other hand isn't terrified at all. He's still laughing. He thinks they're playing. It even takes me seconds to process that my son has attacked a little girl just a few feet in front of me. They're still sitting on the floor. Her on his lap, him with his arms still around her waist.

I jump up to save her but the damage has already been done. My son has become the waiting room bully. Which is made worse by the fact that when I pull them up off the floor and unwrap his arms from her waist he makes a feeble attempt to keep her near him and reaches out for her hair.

I calmly unwrap his fingers and she scurries over to her mom's lap. Her mom has been sitting a fish tank down from me and no doubt saw the entire thing with her other three daughters. Couldn't she have had just one little boy sitting with her? Then I'd have been able to convince myself that she doesn't think he's awful and she understands because she has a little boy of her own? No such luck. Instead I send an embarassed smile her way and apologize. She of couse accepts, although her little girls are clearly holding a grudge.

I do punish Preston for his actions. But there is only so much you can do while waiting in a waiting room. I force him to remain on my lap for the next few minutes while explaining to him that he's been naughty and he scared that little girl.

I know that he wasn't trying to hurt her, he was simply playing and little boys do play rougher than little girls do. But still. It was mortifying.

Only made worse by the fact that we had to sit in the waiting room for the next 40 minutes with this mom and her four daughters. None of which were willing to brave another trip off of their mother's lap for fear of my son. Just super. I'm sure the mother was cursing me in her head.

I did send a few "I swear we're friendly smiles" at them while Preston played at the fishtank with me by his side. And the little girl he attacked was willing to stand up next to the opposite side of the fishtank. She would send curious glances our way. I think she was checking that I would make sure that Preston couldn't get to her again. And if that didn't work there was the fact that her older sister had decided to stand in between her and me/Preston to protect her little sister should Preston attempt to attack play with her again.

That is until the big fish swam their way and Preston followed and then reached out to move the older sister out of his way. Let's just say that the next time those little girls climbed off their mom's lap was when the nurse called them back to a room.

They were replaced by a mother and her two sons. And when Preston and this little boy were playing together at the fish tank and Preston moved in front of him jostling the boy a little. I turned to apologize to the mother and before I could even get the words out, she said he was fine he'd both done and seen worse. Thank heaven for mothers of little boys!

Finally we were called back to see our pediatrician. I wish I could say things improved from there, but they didn't.

Preston weighed in at 27 pounds and measured 36 inches. That puts him in the 60% for weight and the 99% for height. Yay, he's growing and healthy! The nurse even said he measures where an average two and a half year old would.

Only now when he attacks plays with kids the parents will think that my naughty two and a half year old doesn't know any better, instead of realizing that at 19 months he's just starting to really interact with other kids and doesn't know any better yet. Just great.

Then the worst part of the whole ordeal. Time for the shot. I hate when he gets shots. Really hate it. Have I mentioned that at his two month appointment when they gave him his shots and he burst into tears, I did too. Our poor nurse didn't know what to do. If I didn't know that they were so important, I'm not sure that I would go through with it. He cries every time. It's awful.

Then to add insult to injury, as he's crying and I'm cuddling him the nurse says at this age she thinks it hurts his feelings more than it actually hurts him. Thanks, that was just what I wanted to hear. Is it horrible that I'd rather believe that the shot she gave him hurt, rather than the fact that I let it happen hurt his feelings? I don't think so.

All this and we only saw our pediatrician for five minutes. A total visit time of an hour and a half for five minutes with the main guy? Ugh! Usually it isn't so bad. Next time we won't be going in on a Monday so hopefully there won't be such a crowd.

1 comment:

Kait T said...

Try going with three. lol