We Had An "Incident" At The  Doctor

I took the three children to our primary care partner for physicals, vaccinations, and blood work on Friday.

All three had created their lists of questions or concerns they wanted to cover with Ms. Amy. (Our PCP is a Nurse Practitioner and we absolutely adore her.)

Monkey went first and had a fair number of items to discuss. They agreed on the bloodwork and tests that needed to be done, including one that involved drinking a sweet drink.

Monkey had been fasting for the rest of her bloodwork, so she drank a sugary drink, followed by having four vials of blood drawn, all on an empty stomach.

I bet you know where this is headed.

At our PCP’s office, there’s a bench outside the phlebotomist’s room. Buster and Yessa were sitting on that bench, waiting their turns, while I was inside the room with Monkey.

This was a new phlebotomist for us (We’ll call her “B.”), and as is the case for some folks, they have to be cajoled into being friendly, and they also deserve to know how much we appreciate them. B was one of those folks. Not unkind, just brusque and a little aloof.

That was about to change.

Monkey is incredibly tough and handles pain well, but veins make her nauseous, so a deft hand and kind heart are very appreciated.

I was holding her hand and chatting with both of them to help distract Monkey as B prepared the vials and put on the tourniquet. She got the spot on the first stick and efficiently filled the vials, popped out the needle and pulled off the tourniquet.

Monkey was pretty quiet this whole time, but her color started to look a little pale. (Difficult for a red-head, but trust me, pasty applied here.)

As B turned away I made an ill-advised comment about, “It would be an interesting experience to have, Monkey, but don’t pass out.”

At that moment, her head lolled to the side and for a brief moment I thought she was pulling a really committed prank on me.

Then she started to make a gurgling sound and her eyes rolled back into her head.

B grabbed an ice pack to put on the back of her neck, we got her mask off so she could breath and suddenly her bones disappeared as she started to slide like Jell-O off the chair.

I was holding her up in the chair, talking to her, wondering if she was actually having a seizure, and this whole time B hadn’t really said anything. I decided I was done going this alone so called out in a squeaky voice, “Help!”

Four other medical staff rushed in to help.

Remember, all this time, Buster and Yessa are sitting on the bench right outside the door, not knowing what is going on except their sister is gurgling and their mother is calling for help.

Yessa’s vast “Grey’s Anatomy” knowledge meant she was pretty freaked out and retreated to an empty exam room where she could text Buds for comfort.

Buster stayed on the bench, hoping to hear Monkey’s voice.

As Buster said, “It could have been a minute, it could have been a decade,” but eventually Monkey did come around. She was gray, woozy, and very confused. I learned later that she thought she had been riding in the car.

Just as the medical staff was leaving, Monkey said, “I feel nauseated,” and, amazingly missing everyone’s shoes, including her own, threw up all that sugary drink on the floor.

She stayed seated in the chair while we cleaned up the floor and decided Monkey would not be doing anymore testing nor receive any vaccinations on this day.

We got Monkey out of that room and put in the car, got Buster and Yessa caught up to speed, calmed down, and medical things taken care of.

And B was a rock star. So supportive and kind and joking with us. All it took was a little vomit and a shock to the heart. 😆💕💕

Eventually, finally, the four off us were in the car, Starbucks food purchased to try and get Monkey back to equilibrium, and everyone taking a deep breath to try and settle our nerves and shaking limbs.

Then the hilarity began.

Monkey was eager for stories of the whole episode because for her, it didn’t even happen. She was just riding in the car when suddenly she woke up to all these people around her.

Each of us shared our perspective and we laughed until tears were rolling down our faces. Because once it’s over and you know your loved one is okay, the vision of someone turning into a rubber chicken right before your eyes is pretty funny.

When we got home, Monkey settled on the couch where Buds could keep an eye on her and the rest of us went to take naps, too. We were all drained from the intensity.

It was, overall, a fascinating experience, and one we don’t need to repeat any too soon.