My worst nightmare came
to pass; we had to bring Ashley to a doctor yesterday after passing what was
probably the longest day of my life waiting for Alberto to come home. Sunday
night the diarrhea started, Monday morning I bought her Gatorade and started
the BRAT diet, however by Tuesday afternoon she was
burning with fever and refusing to eat because she felt like she was going to
throw up. Ashley, who is normally a ball of energy, was listless and
spent most of the afternoon sleeping. The Madrina came home first
and stopped in to see me as was her habit and said we needed to bring her to
the doctor as soon as Alberto got home. We jumped on him the minute
he walked through the door.
Ashley moaned and cried
pitifully during the entire ride to the pharmacy that partnered with a doctor
much like the Minute Clinics back in Minnesota. We paid the 25 peso
consultation fee and sat down in the uncomfortable plastic chairs to wait for
the Doctor. I could feel the heat radiating off her legs and Alberto
recoiled in shock when I set his hand on her knee so he could feel it
too. Just then the Doctor came to the lobby to bring us back to the
exam room. As we sat talking to him about the symptoms and what she
ate the last few days, Ashley continued to cry softly while poor Alberto broke
into a sweat with each little noise she made. The doctor focused on
what she might have eaten asking very direct questions on whether she mostly
ate chicken, pork, or beef and if we’d been anywhere outside of Mexico
City. I ran down a list of food I’d seen her eat, what she’d drank,
and where we’d been including the meal we’d had at McDonald’s the other day
much to my husband’s irritation.
I was very confused when
no nurse appeared with a syringe for that initial shot, but when I looked to
the Madrina for an explanation she indicated that I should not worry about
it. The Madrina explained to me on the way back to the house that
the milk you get in the pueblitos was raw milk and usually from a cow down the
street, which is probably what made her sick. I gathered Ashley in
my arms from the exam table and had Alberto sit in one of the chairs with her
while I got the medications. I passed the prescription form to the
pharmacist and answered her questions about allergies and confirmed what the
doctor had told us. She passed me a plain white paper bag of
medicine and I passed her the 77 pesos 50 centavos as payment. All
in all this escapade cost 102 pesos 50 centavos which Google tells me is equal to $8.35 USD.
On our way back to the
house I noticed we had a sterilized syringe in the bag along with the
medications. Surely they didn’t intend for me to give my child a
shot. When we arrived back at the house the Madrina went over to the
neighbor’s house to see if their daughter, a Registered Nurse, was home. Thankfully
she was at home, and it was she that administered what had to have been the
most painful injection my daughter had ever received. While she was
washing her hands she told me that it was going to be horrible because it was
an oil-based medication and that Ashley was most likely going to throw up
immediately afterwards. Alberto brought over the trash can at my
direction and I had him sit near her head so that he could hold her arms
down. He looked at me in confusion as he sat down, the poor man had
never had to take a child to the doctor nor had he witnessed any vaccinations
and so had no idea what was going to happen.
The nurse used the
alcohol wipe on the area and I told Alberto to hold her down firmly and I took
her legs. It was done in seconds, but she screamed for at least 5
minutes after emptying her stomach. I could see the tears in
Alberto’s eyes as I gathered our weeping daughter in my arms and gently rocked
her until her heart wretching sobs were nothing more than hiccups. I
let her sleep for a half an hour before waking her to take the medicine. That
was a lesson in frustration let me tell you. She would not take the
medicine until I suggested that we could take her to the Doctor for another
shot if she wouldn’t take it. It took 30 minutes, but she finally
drank the two tiny cups of medicine. I gave her crackers with some
Gatorade and set her up with a movie while we ate some supper. She
was asleep in minutes.
It was the moment that
Alberto finally understood what it takes to be a parent and everything that he
had missed out on. The empathy a parent feels for their child; the
tears that burn in your eyes when they have to have a shot, fall and scrape
their knee, or cry in terror at the monsters the absolutely believe live in
their closet. What a way to learn what it takes to be a father…
"Wait, are you
trying to tell me that my TUESDAY curse struck AGAIN?!"
- Deza (after looking at
the calendar)
Ciao
No comments:
Post a Comment