sweet epi and not so sweet sisterly love

I pulled into the doctor office on two wheels.  Parked the van.  Told myself I made it.  Wondered how in the hell I was gonna get up the front stairs, the interior stairs, and not fall down while carrying a baby carrier and not having a bathroom emergency on the way. 

I saw a mom and 10 year old son leave the building.  She was not that far away but was headed to a different part of the parking lot.  I wanted to call out to her, but convinced myself that I would appear dramatic (something my sister always accuses me of) and waiting for her to understand that I needed help and head towards me seemed like it might take too long.  I opted to just continue in my mission to make it to the office.

I managed the two sets of stairs by saying in my oven-head repeatedly 'almost there.'  There was a 12 yr old boy who had gotten his shot before me and had clearly NOT signed that waiver to skedaddle.  He was NOT living on the edge and had waited the standard 30 minutes to be checked and was now exiting the door in a healthy state.  He looked at me as he turned back towards the door to hold it open for me.  I wanted to kiss him.  How the hell would I have opened that door? 

His face registered alarm when he looked at me, 'OH!  Are you OK?'  I managed to gurgle 'NO' but with my next step I was home free - in the office where all the chairs were filled with patients and parents and people who were generally not pulsating red.  When those peeps looked up from their phones and magazines, etc. their faces screamed 'Ahhh!  Look at you!!!'

I reached the counter and hollered, 'Help me!'   

The staff leapt into action.  I put the baby carrier down in the middle of the waiting room and started to rip my fleece and my zip up workout jacket off.  I was tangled.  The doctor came running.  She stripped my coats off and jammed a beautiful epi shot in my arm.  Dear sweet epinephrine. 

The office staff took care of Babykins.  My cell phone rang from 'Home' and I had no concept of time, so I told the doc it must be my Mom.  The doc answered it and in an excited voice called, 'We are treating your daughter.  She has epinephrine, and is doing better.  We are taking her blood pressure . . .'  Then she shrugged and handed me the phone saying 'I don't know who this is.'  

Turns out it was not my Mom, it was Curly.  She was all, 'Huh?  Who was that?'  I told her I was having an issue but that Nana would be there soon.

Unphased Curly:  "Oh Worst-baby has a HUGE poop diaper and I don't want to change it.  Can I wait for you to change it?  Are you gonna be home soon?'  

I would have been home had my body not blown up in response to my allergy shots. 

Me:  "No, I will not be home soon.  You are gonna have to change him.  Sorry.'

I still have no photos of this ordeal, but Coach and I went shopping on our last day in Dallas a few days after this.  We enjoyed this shop in a cute area called Grapevine.  These little signs made us laugh so much.  I made it really big so you can hopefully read some of them.  I don't even drink that often a)  I don't get out much and b)  I am a cheap date - but if I drink a little I just get sleepy.  Still I appreciate these hilarious wall hangings.

Then I texted a very anxiety ridden Coach to pass along Babykins' mom's number.  He had done some digging (aka contacting Pat's wife) and found the number for the doc office.  He had called to see that I had made it back and was relieved that I was going to survive. 

Babykins' mom texted that she would be there soon and the doc urged me to stop texting people and let them treat me.  Then my sister, Ann, called.  She lives less than a mile from the doc office.

Ann:  "I just called Dad and he told me what happened.  I am driving home from work.  Do you want me to come there?  (no - all good)  Do you need me to come and take care of Babykins?"  (no - his mom will be here in a few minutes).

Elle, Babykins' mom arrived.  She scooped up her slightly freaked out kid and came in to see how I was.  She is an A-list parent to work for, very appreciative and easy going, but I felt bad that I dragged her to the doc office to get her guy.

We chatted for a few and low and behold Ann walked into my room to join the party.  

Me:  "Oh, I told you that you didn't need to come."  

Ann:  "I know, but I wanted to see how funny you looked."

Me:  (turning to Elle)  "Sisterly love."  

As far as I am concerned the best part of this story happens next.  I know this has dragged on a bit, but I just COULD NOT fit it into one post.  I urge you to read the next post to get to the punchline, that was almost a punch-in-the-face.  It will make you chuckle.  And if it doesn't, you can leave me a disgruntled comment.