|Just Another Day at the Yearout Medical Clinic|
Looking back, I always thought I should have been a Pediatrician. And for years as a budding tween, I carried around multitudes of stuffed animals with toilet paper wrapped wounds on their bodies and cared deeply and seriously for them… as, of course, I was going to be a Veterinarian and a Professional Horse Person when I grew up.
Little did I know, however, that though I didn’t follow the medical calling as an actual career, raising a feisty, tree romping, dirt rolling, cartwheeling, baseball bat wielding, badminton birdie slamming family would basically put me through the same training as a first rate Medical School on the eastern seaboard.
Am I right, Mommies?
My friend Liz from Boston made me laugh out loud recently with a Facebook post describing her recent endless run of medical dramas and traumas in her household, finishing her post with a bleating and bleeding cry that every single parent on the planet can relate to: WHAT NEXT, REALLY!!!
I feel her pain.
My household has had the same recent run of medical trauma and drama – just read my posts! And last night I looked at my husband and said with wide eyes and boggled mind: at what point does this all STOP???
I am ready to put a sign on the front of my house that says: Yearout Medical Clinic – Just Get in Frickin’ Line…
In the last few weeks: ER visit (duct tape), food poisoning (bad eggs), blown out knee of 85 lb dog (who I carried), thus, Mommy thrown out back with acute shooting pain that makes me want to eat glass, more food poisoning different person (don’t know what) fever, diarrhea, etc etc. If an Ambulance showed up in front of the house right now and started unloading loads of sliced and diced up neighbors, I wouldn’t be surprised. Just get in frickin’ line, I’d kindly say and hand them a stuffed animal….
There are bigger problems in the world. But the constant, chronic, flaming atrocity of battling boo-boos that are, yes, essential to learning life lessons (as I’d mentioned before on a non pain-infused, dancing through the tulips day) but their non-stop aerial boo-boo bombing can start to wear the spirit down. UNLESS, of course, I look at it as free tuition to the most realistic, hands-on, down-and-dirty residency of my life.
And, that, my friends, is how I’m going to spin and survive this.
In the meantime, pass the first aid kit – I just sliced up my finger opening the plastic container of Blueberries.
Namaste & Three Cheers. -a