Since I am a very, very organized individual, I waited until the Sunday before Kindergarten registration to fill out the paperwork, gather the documents needed, check Henry’s immunization reports, etc. Imagine my surprise when I realized that he was two immunizations shy of eligibility for enrollment in kindergarten.
Ever the optimist, I figured that was no big deal, we’ll just get him his shots Monday and register him Tuesday. Excellent.
Except I, in my brilliance, never faxed the immunization report from our previous pediatrician to our current pediatrician. What does this mean? This means “Oh no, we cannot give him the shots until the Dr. reviews his chart.”
First available appointment (that is not during Ella’s nap. Because I avoid missing Ella’s nap at all cost.) is Wednesday. Which is after Tuesday.
I decided to take it, go ahead and half-register him at the school (where I waited in line for 30 minutes with a two year old throwing a tantrum because I wouldn’t allow her to take her shoes and socks off.) ((And why she wanted to take her shoes and socks off was beyond me.))
So I half-registered Henry for Kindergarten (which henceforth shall be termed KG, because writing out kindergarten takes too many fingerstrokes).
Wednesday we went to the Pediatrician (henceforth Ped for reasons already mentioned). Keep in mind I had to leave 45 minutes before our appointment time to get there, park, and get myself into the office. It’s practically and all day affair.
On the way up the elevator, I thought to myself “Boy, it would really s*ck if I forgot the immunization report.” Can you see where I’m going with this? Mm-hm. I left both copies with the school at KG registration.
I immediately called the school and asked them to please, pretty please fax the records to the doctor, as I am at the office, in the waiting room, waiting for shots. And waiting and waiting and waiting. We waited for 25 minutes in the waiting room. In the interest of fairness, I will divulge that I arrived 10 minutes early.) The nurse checked the fax machine…nothing from the school had arrived. Alrighty then.
She checked Henry in, stuck us in an exam room, and said she would check the fax again and let me know. After 15 minutes of hearing nothing from said nurse, I figured the fax must have come.
Another 15 minutes passes. That’s a total of 30 minutes in a tiny exam room with an almost-two-year-old with red hair and a temper, and a 5 year old that is hard of hearing and talks really loud so that all of the other exam rooms can hear him.
After 35 minutes, the nurse shows her face and says “there’s still no fax.” WTH? Are you kidding me? You waited 35 minutes to tell me there’s no fax?
So I call the school, and am put on hold. Which is fantastic because now the doctor has entered the room and I feel like an idiot. The whole point of him seeing Henry was to review the records. Which I don’t have.
The school lady finally picks up, and says she faxed the records over and it transmitted okay. The nurse said, “Hm. Okay, I’ll go check again.”
“Oh, here they are!”
Bla bla bla, pretend pleasantries are exchanged, he gets his shots and in passing, I ask about reactions that I should be concerned about. Which is funny, because I never ask that question. I just look it up online when I get home. Because you know, the world wide web contains a wealth of reliable medical knowledge.
But anyway, this time, I asked about reactions. They said swelling, redness and very warm to the touch at injection site and they’ll want to see him. Can you see where I’m going with this?
This morning we had redness and swelling (I mean big, firm swelling) from the top of his shoulder to halfway down his arm. And it was hot. Fantastic.
I called the doctor, and they said I have to have an actual office visit to be seen, and it has to be with the doctor administering the shot, who doesn’t have any appointments until 3:50. Mm-hm.
Goodie. So I’ll have to get the older two kids from the bus stop, get in the car and go. I get to bring all four of them. All.four.of.them. In an 8×10 exam room. Can you just picture me, 4 kids and a doctor in that size room? Somebody compute the person per square foot for me. That has to be a fire code violation.
Then the best part is I’ll hit rush hour on the way home. Oh, and Ella is upstairs fighting the nap. Which means she’s going to be a joy to experience in that exam room.
I’ll look back on this and laugh some day, right?
Yes, these are good times. Good times indeed.