Oh the Drama!

 

I'm back to rant and rave about how CRAZY my week has been.

In case you didn't know this, I don't really like holidays. Quite frankly, I feel like holidays are nothing more than financial and emotional drains. I've spent my whole life draining those two things. So leave me alone when I say, "Ba-humbug!"

So the tree, wreaths, garland and all that other crap got drug up from the basement. Shortly after came all the sneezing and nose blowing. Yup, my basement is NOT as clean as I thought it was. I had to clean my living room at least 6 times. And my cat destroyed 4 more ornaments than last year. AWESOME. To make matters worse, when I put all the lights on the tree, I did it backwards and had to redo the whole thing. *sighs*

A day or so goes by and my son decides he's gonna be an electrician......except an electrician would know how to plug the tree lights in. Do ya think my son took 2 seconds to find the plug hanging at the bottom of the tree and plug it into the extension cord RIGHT NEXT TO IT??? Nope........didn't bother at all. Instead, he decides that he's going to take the extension cord, disconnect 2 sets of lights on the tree and try to plug them both into the extension cord. Only half the tree lit up. When I noticed this, I asked what he did. He said he couldn't figure out how to turn the lights on, so he messed with the lights till he got it. (He's gonna be 13 in a week.) I was NOT impressed.

So to be a good mom and teach the boy a lesson, I say, "Fix it. You messed it up, you fix it. Undo what you did and put it back the way you found it." 4 hours later, he was crying and I lost a patch of hair on the back of my head. *growls*

Eventually, I got mad and yelled at him. "Forget it! I don't know WHY you messed with it in the first place! Now I have to fix your mess, AGAIN!" Then I sent him to bed. (A whole 15 minutes early.....woohoo....*twirls finger in the air*....)

The next morning we got up (at 5:30am while its still dark out) and I get my coffee and sit down while the boy gets ready for school. Suddenly, the boy bursts out of the bathroom and says, "Mom! Look at my face! I can't go to school like this!"

All groggy, I squinted my eyes and tried to see what he was talking about, but it was too dark. So I took him to the bathroom where the light was brighter and I got a better look. His face was covered with tiny red spots! All over his face, neck, shoulders and ears. It was so odd looking. My first thought and words were, "How the hell did you get a hickey on your whole head? Did the Sandman take a plunger to your face?" He didn't think it was funny. "Mom! How am I going to go to school like this??" He panicked, as usual.

I wondered if it was something like the measles. He had the chicken pox twice and he was vaccinated so I guess anythings possible. So, I did what any mom would do, I called the DR and got him in that morning. On the drive there, my son begins his routine 'panic' and asks me his routine 'panic mode questions', "Are they gonna give me a shot?? Are they, mom?? Are they gonna stick me?? Are they, mom??" (This happens every single time. One time I made him an appointment and he asked, I simply didn't answer him and he pinched himself for a week straight to prepare himself for the inevitable poke that he didn't actually get. It was quite the show.) You'd think these types of fears start to fade over time.......nope, not with MY boy. In fact, I'm pretty sure it got worse.

It started badly right off the bat. The nurse tried to take his vitals but his blood pressure was reading so high they had to try it twice with the machine then 2 more times manually. It was absolutely high. Then the DR comes in takes one look and says, "Oh wow. This looks like Petechia. Then she looks in his eyes and says, "Yup, it does. How odd." She checks him all over and asks a battery of questions all that led to nothing. She turned to me and says, "Well, it could either be Petechia or it could be some sort of side affect from a virus he may have. So to be safe I'd like to get some blood work on him."

All the color dropped out of my son's face like water falling off a cliff. He turned a shade of white I haven't seen without bleach, so quickly, I actually got nervous. And I don't get nervous. I'm always in control. The DR ran to his side and  told him to lay down but he was in full fledged panic mode at that point. "WHAT??" he yelled. "BLOOD WORK??" he yelled. Then he began to hyperventilate and burst into tears. The DR listened to his heart, gave me a scary look and ran out of the room. While she was gone, I took that moment to calm the boy down. He got a TINY bit of color back when the DR came back in with smelling salts. "You okay, now?" she asked him. Still crying he answered honestly, "No!"

The DR handed me the blood work order and whispered, "I hope he makes it." Then she left. I scooped up the boy and slowly walked him down the 6.5 flights of stairs (last time I went there I got stuck in the elevator). So like his blood pressure wasn't high enough, now we're doing a workout!

Anyway, he BARELY made it through the blood draw. It took a long while, a seriously patient nurse, lots of orange juice, a few chains, some leather straps, a stick to bite down on and a few shots of whiskey, but it got done.

Once that was over, I realized my son's glasses were missing. Turned out he left them in the DR office. So, with a sheet white young man who's heart rate and blood pressure is through the roof, we ventured back up those 6.5 flights of stairs, got the glasses, then went back down and left.

Before leaving the DR told me that the test only takes 3 hours so she would call me later. Being a mom with a child who already has disabilities, I began to get nervous. So I looked up Petechia and was not okay with what I found. It's mostly found (apparently) in people with things like cancer or Leukemia, immune disorders. I bit my nails as it took far longer than 3 hours for the phone to ring. Finally, after hours of panic from both of us, she called and said all was normal.

My son in passing (while we were at the DR office that day) mentioned that he was upset the night before and to let it out he held his breath. The DR, who was now on the phone said, "You know how he said he held his breath cuz he was mad last night?" I said yeah. She said, "Well, I've never actually seen it happen before but if he did it really hard, for a long enough time, he COULD have popped all the blood vessels in his head. We'll find out when you bring him in tomorrow."

At that we got off the phone and I looked at my son and said, "If all this is happening just because you had a temper tantrum, I may actually kill you." He laughed. *sighs*

Long story short, we went back to the DR's office today and since the boy's face looks MUCH better today, she burst out laughing.

"That was it, wasn't it? He imploded?" I asked shaking my head.
"Yup!" she said looking him over thoroughly. The DR laughed hysterically. "I've never actually seen that before!" she laughed. "Don't do that again!" she said to my son.
"I promise, I will NEVER do that again!" he said. And we were on our way.

If you ever for a moment think my life is easy.........just, slap yourself........right across the face. Twice if need be. This drama may actually kill me.

*faints*