This morning I brought the boys to school and (stupidly) thought I would leave their ventolin inhalers with them in case they needed them. My boys have been using their own inhalers for over 2 years so it never occurred to me that this would be a problem. In their last school I just left them in their backpacks so they could use them when they needed them.
Ya. This school? Is way more strict about things like that. And I think I freaked Owen's teacher out a bit. I wrote a note to the teachers explaining why the boys had been out of school for the past few days and why I was sending their inhalers. Aiden's teacher didn't seem too bothered by it and told me she has a daughter with asthma so understood. Owen's teacher? Not so much. I think it scared her.... which actually made me feel really bad. I had to go talk to the principal and then the vice principal (who, by the way, is a wonderful woman that was just so great to talk to) in an attempt to figure out what to do. They gave me forms that I had to get a doctor to sign in order for me to leave inhalers at the school.
That stressed me out because you all know what good luck I am having with doctors in this town so far. (feel the sarcasm)
It also stressed me out that the boys wouldn't be able to have their inhalers with them... asthma isn't something to mess around with and it bothers me that their inhalers will be in the main office of the school which is NOT in the same room as my kid.
Anyway, being the emotional basket-case that I am I was on the verge of tears and suddenly realized that, in my efforts not to cry, I was starting to sound like a total angry hag. Which I wasn't. So then I tried to explain that I wasn't mad I was just stressed out with the medical system and all the rules I don't know about and can't follow if I don't know them etc. and that I am just feeling panicky because I have had to take the boys to the ER a couple times and really don't want to do that again.
SO I left the school and headed to the ER to see if the doctor who saw my kids on monday would fill out the forms that the school needed from me. Ya. That plan totally didn't work.
The very nice ER receptionist lady looked at me like I was insance to think that could happen and told me to try the walk-in clinic. So off I went to the clinic where I met a VERY nice receptionist who took pity on my over-emotional self and started to explain the rules of our town's medical system. She explained that if you want to see a doctor that day you show up at the clinic at 9am, wait in line and try for an apt that afternoon. If that doesn't work you come back at 1 pm and try for an apt for the next day. They will only book one half of the day at a time apparently. She also explained no doctor would sign my forms without my sons actually present because we aren't actually anyone's patients. I started to feel panicky.
But God had mercy on me and the lovely receptionist told me I was in luck because she just happened to have an unexpected apt available that afternoon at 3:15. I almost gave her a hug I was so relieved.
I called the school and told them I'd have to pick up the boys early for this apt and all would be well.
Fast forward a few hours, after I had a lovely chat with my dear friend Becky who almost managed to get me sane again, to me naively picking up my boys and taking them to the clinic.
MY BOYS WENT INSANE. It was awful. And I mean truly awful. My children turned into those horrible children you see running around back alleys and malls clearly unsupervised and who had never been taught any manners and obviously had awful parents.
If you had seen my kids in that office you would have thought there was something seriously wrong with them AND me.
I started to think so too after about 5 minutes of torture.
Finally the poor unwitting doctor comes in and starts to ask me questions above the din of my maniacal sons acting like complete morons. He did a valiant job of ignoring the chaos. It was pretty impressive actually. He totally ignored Aiden licking my arm, Owen throwing his socks at my head, Aiden crawling under his chair and chanting weird things, Owen making faces loudly in the mirror, Aiden crawling into the corner of the office and making animal sounds of some sort, me reminding them OVER AND OVER again that they were acting totally unacceptably, trying to distract them, telling them everything I was going to take away since they were being so dreadful... etc.
The very gracious doctor fills out my forms and in the midst of the questions figures out my son Aiden has been tested for Aspergers and needs to get into a pediatrician to continue that process. He quickly assures me he will refer Aiden to a pediatrician and then says "and obviously you will want to get a referral for your other son too so ASD (autism spectrum disorder) can be ruled out".
Ya, that's right. My "normal" kid was acting bad enough that the doctor thought he had special needs. Goody.
I gladly accepted the referral however because then at least two of us will have access to a doctor! And I am truly grateful for the referral. It was the bright spot in this hideous day.
By the time I got out of that office I was so mad at the boys there was probably steam coming out of my ears. I mean they were REALLY REALLY REALLY bad in that office. Awful. Horrifyingly embarrassing. It was as if every lesson they have ever learned left their head during that hour.
I was very relieved to get home and confine them to their room indefinitely.
I totally made them clean their room and the playroom in the basement. Doug took away their wii and half their toys. At that point I think they finally realized just how mad I really was. Suddenly they were very apologetic.
Honestly? My boys are usually pretty good. They are mostly polite. They have the ability to listen. No, they are not perfect... but today? Was just out of control.
And then tonight? Once we finally managed to get all three kids asleep I checked my email and found this lovely note buried in my drafts folder...
ur account has been hacked by me !
What. A. Jerk.
There is seriously no lol from me pal.
So my goal for the next few hours is to forget today ever happened because tomorrow? Is Aiden's 7th birthday. SEVEN! And it is going to be a happy day.