Took Thing One to the doctor today after he came home early from school febrile and fatigued yesterday. I figured that since we missed a subclinical pneumonia for several months last school year, perhaps I should pay a bit more attention to vague symptoms this time around.
The doctor led us through the usual routine of poking, prodding, and looking, but didn’t find anything terribly disturbing on the physical exam. So it was off to the lab for a blood draw. S2B hopped right up on the chair and answered the tech’s questions. Yes, he’s had blood drawn before. Yes, he’d eaten earlier. Yes, he was fine to go ahead and get it done.
We were four tubes into it when the tech sharply told him to lay his head down. I was behind him, rubbing his back, so I couldn’t see that his face had gone ghost white. She removed the needle and I was putting pressure on the puncture, when his shade turned a lovely green.
At that point she was running for a bag, a towel, anything that would contain the clearly impending vomit storm. But alas, too late.
After the mop-up of S2b, the countertop, and the floor (somehow I lucked out and managed to avoid getting covered), we hauled S2B over to the EKG room where he could lay down and recover from this vagal episode.
This was the point when I lost my halo. Once all was basically under control & my dear firstborn was resting, I began to giggle. And that’s very hard to stifle. So it turned into outright hilarity. At which point, S2b rolled his eyes at me with the long-suffering look of a tortured child who cannot believe that his supposedly “loving” mother would actually have the gall to laugh after an incident such as this.
Then I took a picture.
And asked if I could blog the whole thing.
To the credit of his sense of humor, he said yes.
That’s funny stuff, kid.