None of this was very concerning considering she’s two. Viruses and bugs are a common occurrence.
But then I changed the mother of all nap time diapers and noticed something blue gleaming at me from her nostril.
My brain didn’t quite know what to do with this information. I was stuck on the thought, “Why is her snot blue?” for quite some time. And then I realized my child had pushed a blue craft bead up her nose.
After two seconds of trying to hold her down and get it out I made Anthony call the nearest urgent care to let them know we’d be there soon.
The entire family accompanied Annabelle to the doctor so mom and dad could assist in restraining her when the time came. Noah was very pleased to be visiting the doctor and couldn’t stop touching everything in sight. Annabelle was enjoying the experience until the evil nurse made her stand on a scale. From then on everything the poor man did was pure torture in the eyes of a toddler. Checking her blood oxygen? How dare he. Taking her temperature? Surely something the Geneva Convention should have addressed.
By the time she calmed down, it was clear she wasn’t feeling well at all. She was no longer smiling or laughing and just wanted to snuggle closely.
The nurse, God bless his soul, gave us a barf bag and promised we were the next to be seen by the doctor.
Everything was fine for the next five minutes.
Annabelle then violently threw up. Mercifully into the barf bag.
Unmercifully, she then decided to be mortal enemies with the bag and violently threw up again. On my shirt. On my pants. Puddles of vomit collecting in my lap. The stench left me unable to do anything other than clench my mouth and eyes shut and pretend I was absolutely anywhere but this hell.
Our friend the nurse, may he live a long and blessed life, sprang into action with gauze pads for clean up and brand new t-shirts for us to change into. Another nurse grabbed vomit covered Annabelle and cleaned her up.
She grabbed her. With no gloves on. She grabbed someone else’s vomit covered child with her bare hands. Mother Teresa has nothing on this woman.
Within five minutes Annabelle and I were in fresh clothes and the bead had been removed from her nose. It only took four adults to do it.
What was a nasty, smelly mess of a doctor’s visit was saved by the kindness and care of the doctors and nurses at our urgent care clinic.
And we got two free t-shirts out of the deal, so we’ve got that going for us.