Today was crap. Right from the get-go. I woke up missing Sean. In a pack-up-the-car-and-drive-home kinda way. I got over it, did the normal morning routine. Read about how oblivious the Israelites can be(I'm mid-way through Jeremiah), made breakfast, started the boys on school with a peppy attitude.
Apparently, I was the only one bringing pep to the table today.
I called Sean looking for sympathy. After all, they are his children. I went barking up the wrong tree and my pep deflated. After that, all good things came to an end, as they must. There was back talk, there was whining, there was gnashing of teeth, there was...
bang, crash, boom...silence...screaming
Every once in a while, Titus will stand at the top of the wooden stairs and toss things down. I can usually judge what it is by the sound. This time, I knew it wasn't a bag of legos or a book or a bowling ball. As I rounded the corner with that sick dread that only a mother knows, I figured out pretty quickly that it was no good.
Simon was carrying T down the stairs and slipped. To keep from landing on or dropping Titus, he leaned back. While noble and so very sweet that he didn't even displace a hair on T's head, his back suffered.
We bolted to a local doctor's office, filled out a bazillion sheets of paper only to be told that they couldn't get the help line to answer. Y'see, here's the thing about that wonderful health care that the military provides us...it works well. In a military town. When you're not in a military town, you have to call the nurse line to ask permission to be seen by someone outside the network and they provide you with a little authorization number. Without that #, you have to pay and hope there's a way to be reimbursed. The doctor's office recommended that I run up the street to an urgent care.
Upon our arrival, I was reminded ever so quickly why we moved. I handed Nurse Blondie back her paper, stomped out and drove towards yet another hospital while calling our insurance company to find out where the H I could take my kid. All the while, he's in pain and complaining that it hurt to breathe. I'm freaking out thinking I've done everything wrong and that I should just pull over and call 911.
I didn't. In the end, we went to Carolina's Hospital System where we were in and out, complete with x-rays, in the amount of time I spent filling out paperwork at the first "McDonald's" office. Three nurses at the first place, not a single one spent time asking about my child's condition, asking only how they would be paid. I get that, I really do, but in an urgent setting, I would think a child's health would take precedence. At Carolina's, the lady at the ER check in said, "He's most important. Let's make sure he's okay first, then we'll finish the paperwork." I will be sending a handwritten note to let them know what a difference they made in my day.
Anyways, all that to say, he's ok and things could've turned out so much worse. If Simon had fallen from higher up or fallen on Titus. There are no broken bones, no ribs puncturing his lungs as I feared in a worst case scenario kinda way. It seems he maybe just wanted some one on one time with his mama. I told him there are better ways of ensuring such things. We finished up our date, by swinging by and picking up Pop Pop for dinner. A Holy Shittake pizza just for Simon. The boy loves mushrooms. And he loves his Pop Pop who plays a mean game of tic tac toe.