All through my teen years and into college I thought I wanted to be a doctor. God did some changes in me and I quit school for a time. A short time later, I met my dear husband. And many years and 5 children later I have racked up quite a few medical experiences.
I have had 7 completely different pregnancies and 5 of them very complicated, interesting and frightening to boot.
All of my children have had stitches at least once. Some more than others.
One has had staples in his head.
I have had 2 with broken arms.
A couple of concussions to deal with.
One with a broken nose requiring surgery, to break it all over again 2 weeks later after surgery.
One was hospitalized at 6 weeks of age for cellulitis.
2 have been hospitalized for respiratory issues.
I have ridden in an ambulance with one.
I super-glued one child's chin instead of going in to let the dr/nurse do it.
All 5 have had to have nasal extractions in the doctor office. I wish I could put the smiley with eye rolling next to this one.
Last month I did my first nasal extraction cause I just couldn't bear to go in yet again for another one. So I pinned him down with my weight and ignored his crying. Fortunately, it was the eraser from the end of a pencil and it was easy to grasp with tweezers. He informed me his brother did it?! ! ? Whatever.....
Countless other off the wall procedures. All firsts for me.
And now I know how to use a "needle" to put holes in my daughter's nail."
We go to a clinic where everyone seems to know me well enough to remember my last name if not the first names of all us.
The clinic staff seem to notice when we haven't been in for a while.
The scheduler at the ped's desk knows my voice and just has to ask which one.
Who knew back then all the "medical experience" I would rack up. I almost can't wait to see what my grandchildren are going to do. Yet, it concerns me as well. I wonder if I will have any nerves left to remain calm.
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