Back to the Doctor

For the second time in the past few months, Madeleine had to go to the Urgent Care clinic for a skin infection.  This one was more painful but less worrisome than the last, as it was a localised area filled with pus, rather than a staph infection requiring oral antibiotics.  However, the spot was so painful for poor Madeleine that we decided not to wait until the regular doctor's office opens during the week, and took her in this morning.

As we walked to the clinic, Madeleine told me her brilliant strategy for avoiding the danger of cars when we crossed the street:

MADELEINE: So.  Mama.  If we're crossing the street, and I feel like I want to LET GO of your hand, I will just LET GO and then run SUPER FAST across the street so I can go FASTER than the cars.

I, personally, think her idea is about as fool-hardy as it gets.  I suggested an alternative idea.

ME: Well, you know what?  You can run really fast on the sidewalk if you'd like, but when we cross the street, we HAVE to hold hands, for safety.

We tested out my idea as we crossed at one of the worst intersections in town, me firmly clutching her hand even as I sensed her wanting to let go and dash across.

ME: Honey, we absolutely have to hold hands when we're crossing the street on a busy road like this.
MADELEINE: (cheerfully) Yeah!  Because.  Mama.  This is kind of like a MANGER road.

I will admit that I would have potentially allowed her to simply walk beside me if it had been a quiet road instead.  But there's no ifs ands or buts about holding hands when we cross a manger road. 

When we got to the clinic, Madeleine decided to be a chatterbox to every single person we encountered.

Signing in:

DESK CLERK: Okay, and has Madeleine been here before?
ME: Yes.
DESK CLERK: Okay, then we should-
MADELEINE: (loudly, to the desk clerk) And GUESS WHAT?  This time, I'm gonna pick a DIFFERENT flavor that I like, because I didn't LIKE the one I got last time.
DESK CLERK: She's talking about a lollipop?
ME: Yep.


In the examining room, to the nurse:

MADELEINE: Um, I like your SHOES! 
NURSE: Thank you!  (turning to me) So, no allergies, no medications-
MADELEINE: And...and...the LAST time I came here, the doctor drew a SILLY man on my leg!
ME: That's right.  She was here once before for a skin infection.  No, no medications or allergies.
NURSE: And is she-
MADELEINE: Um...um...that pillow doesn't LOOK like a pillow.  It just looks like a BLANKET that's SHAPED like a pillow!
NURSE: (to me) She's a talkative one, huh?

I guess by the time the doctor came in, Madeleine was all talked-out, because she was able to lie quietly and VERY bravely while the doctor drained the pus from her infected skin.  She offered nary a whimper, and I praised her repeatedly for her courage.  On the second to last draining attempt, Madeleine decided to announce loudly to me, "Mama?  Um...the doctor was pushing on my skin a little TOO hard."  The doctor and I assured her it was almost done, and soon afterwards she had a band-aid on, a lollipop in her mouth, and a skip back in her step.

On our walk home, I commended Madeleine on her bravery.

ME: Honey, you were SO brave at the doctor's!  I know that it hurt, but you didn't even cry!
MADELEINE: (matter-of factly) Well Mama.  Did you know that I DON'T EVEN CRY at things that only hurt a LITTLE bit?  Yeah.  I only cry at things that hurt MUCH WORSE than that.
ME: Oh, really?
MADELEINE: Yeah.  And Mama. I don't even cry when I fall down!

I decided to let Madeleine go along with her delusion that she doesn't cry over things that don't hurt, but I know BS when I see it.  This kid cries over the most minor of matters, as we all know.  I mean, this is the child who was sobbing hysterically to her preschool teachers because I had packed her a different pair of mittens than her usual ones.  (Or, as she put it to her teachers, "Mommy packed me the WRONG MITTENS.  ON.  PURPOSE!") But, hey, she deserves to feel proud of her behavior today, so I figured I'd refrain from reminding her about just how often she actually does cry.

Speaking of, shortly after we returned home from the clinic, Julia arrived back from running errands with Auntie Shannon, and in her excitement to run upstairs and show Madeleine the cupcake treats they'd bought, she wiped out on the stairs and cut her leg.  And sobbed hysterically.  So while I may have dodged a bullet with Madeleine on the crying front, I got more than my daily dose of sobbing-child-cuddles with Julia.  Now we have TWO kiddos with bandages!

At least they have some cupcakes for dessert tonight to make up for the pain they endured during the day!