The Hospital Chronicles: Part 1

This part is called, "If I Only Had a Brain".



You know what's fun? Going to the doctor's office with your newborn three days in a row and four days in a week. It's about a hundred bucks worth of fun. So it should be awesome, right? False. On one of these visits, I was still recovering from birthing a 10 pound 3 month old and had the privilege of taking both kids solo. It was stressful. I sweated a lot. Long story short, Mason was doing what Parker did verbatim before Parker was diagnosed with Pyloric Stenosis (the hardening of the pylorus muscle which releases food from the stomach into the intestines).

Side note: this is going to be a short entry because I have just had a VERY long two days that I am pretty sure was actually a week and a half. I don't care what logic tells me. I know how long it really was.

So we go to the Dr. for the last time that week (because it was a Friday and there were no more days left to go) and they end up sending us right to the hospital for an ultrasound to confirm the diagnosis so he can have his surgery. Also, we had 20 mins to get there and the doctor office was 30 mins away. Obviously this makes sense. And I hadn't eaten all day which only added to the gloriousness that was my situation.

We get to the radiology department and this woman greets me and asks if I had been there before and offers us a warm blanket or something to drink while we wait. It was weirdly amazing. And then about a hundred old ladies start gawking over Mason and about how handsome he is and how big he is and bless my little heart for having such a big baby and so on and so forth. So this made the day feel much better than it was. I love cute, old ladies. Especially the ones that see how amazing my children are.

After we do the ultrasound, the doctor calls and tells me it was positive for pyloric stenosis and shortly after sends us up to the pediatric wing. So here's the deal....our pediatrician had left for the day by the time we got in to the office. So we saw a different doctor. After she told me the diagnosis, I asked if she was going to tell our usual pediatrician. Her response: I've already sent her a text.

This is where my brain blacked out from reality. I immediately thought these things...

"What did the text say?"
"Why do I feel like it had stupid abbreviations that middle schoolers use?"
"Did they make a joke? Did they use LOL?"
"Did our doctor send back a sad face?"

These are all things I wanted to know. Mostly about the sad face though.

And that was how the first half of yesterday went.