MRS WIGGS VS THE DOCTORS

Taking Lauren anywhere has become a nightmare of sorts. Her whole focus is on exploring and going on adventures. Those adventures are usually self-directed and do not involve the suggestions of anyone else. So having to buckle her in for a 30 minute drive to another doctor's appointment is only the beginning of the fight. She is usually entertained in the car by one member of the toy explosion that has occurred in my backseat (I also think that it deters anyone from breaking into the car because you're not going to look at the mess of baby toys, blankets, dolls and cups and picture yourself getting a great haul). Then we end up in the waiting room. I hate the waiting room. You know that everything is covered in germs and I have a little adventurer who wants to touch everything but who isn't allowed to get sick. It is a catch-22. So there is a lot of throwing in the air, flipping her upside down and happy squealing involved. Oh yes, I am that person. You hate me. I hate me. We all hate me. And I accept that distain because you would hate me more if she was crying.

Once we are into the exam room it isn't much different. Actually, it is worse. I am now distracted by a doctor who wants to ask a million questions (for good reason) and Lauren wants to do anything but sit nicely. She is squirming, eating the paper on the exam bed, pulling the scopes off of the wall, and crawling full tilt to the edge of the bed, just to see if we are paying attention, I think. Thankfully I always have help. In the last appointment on Tuesday with the gastroenterologist, lucky Auntie Elysha got to do Wiggs control while I spoke with the doctor and all I heard was, "Angel, no. No, don't eat that. Ooh, that's not for babies. Princess.... Oh, that's a bad idea. Uh oh. No, keep your shoes on. Stop eating that."

And then it is Lauren aka Mrs. Wiggs versus the doctor. Now she's had a good 30 minutes in the car and 45 minutes at the doctors to mentally prepare for this exchange. You want to see my belly? I'm going to eat your stethoscope. You want to hear my heart? I'm going to collapse down. In my ears? Look how fast I can turn my head! Touch my liver? Listen to me sing loud. Check my pulses? Maybe I should pee now. I've been saving it you know. Most of them just give up lately. She's got a pretty good track record lately.

Well, this poor gastroenterologist was just trying to help. That ph probe that Lauren had to have actually showed something (a personal victory since everyone said that it was unlikely that it would show anything.) The ranitidine that Lauren was on was not actually working so after 7 hours, she would start having significant reflux again. Since she only gets the medication twice a day, that means that 10 hours of the day, she experiences significant reflux pain. Poor little monkey. The doctor has started her on a new medication but it will take a few days to kick in. He has suggested that this will help her sleep better and I believe it because my antidepressant sporadically gives me painful reflux and it is impossible to sleep! You even wake up in pain because of the impact of laying with acid up out of your stomach. I am so excited about the possibility of her sleeping better. These better not be empty promises that he's giving to me. In the end, I'm so glad that the ph probe was actually worth that terrible day. Hopefully this medicine will work and fast. It will be a little annoying because it only lasts for two weeks so I will have to be going to the pharmacy that often but it is totally something that I am willing to do.

Until next time doctor!