I had to take Diego to the ER a few nights ago, because homeboy was breathing like a 70 year-old man with emphesyma. Poor Deg. His inhaler wasn't working for him anymore and his nebulizer had seen better days. We've been surviving by hooking the machine up to Michael's compressor. Hey, it's all about survival. If I had to give the kid mouth-to-mouth just so he could get some air, I would.
Well, it was time to go on out and get a new one. Of course, it was too late in the evening to visit urgent care. So off to the ER we went. Usually, Michael is the one who takes Diego for his doctor visits because he is hard for me to handle. Plus he cries like a little girl...and so does his daddy when he's sick...so I'd rather just pass on that motherly duty. But Michael, he deceived me by saying I should go...get some St.Arbucks...grab an Instyle mag...and enjoy the time.
Hmmmmph. I should have known better.
I must be slippin', ya'll.
In my haste to get my son to the doctor's in the cold night air, I didn't get my coffee...I didn't get my mag. And I was just praying the ER would be empty so I wouldn't get freaked out by emergency room germs. I can take regular old germs but not ER germs. Those are the worst. I walked in with my old black ratty sweater and pulled it up to cover my mouth like an old Mexican woman vampire. And I didn't even care if it seemed rude.
After Diego was sufficiently high off all the meds they gave him, he couldn't even sit for a few moments while we waited for his prescriptions to fill. By this time, it was already after midnight. I was tired. I was cold. I was grouchy because I knew my chance for coffee was out the window. I pleaded with him, "Diego. Please. Sit down. Rest. Here, put your head in my lap so you can try to fall asleep or something."
And he just looked at me like the demented little elf that he is. "No, mom! I want to frolic in the wind...metaphorically speaking!"
Have I confessed how much I love this kid?