Yesterday I took Amelia to a walk in clinic to get her ears and throat checked. I have learned the hard way that when I ignore such aches and pains, accompanied by fever, the child gets violently ill.
One would think that being the fourth child, he or she would be smarter than to even bother getting ill because the odds are highly in their favour that he or she will be ignored by his or her mother who has "been there, done that" a few too many times and has lost all vigor for such shenanigans as going to the doctor and waiting for prescriptions to be filled.
Well, clearly she doesn't knowwhatimean because she is sick. And because she is the sweetest lil thing in the history of sweet lil things she got a Beanie Boo out of the deal.
Safari, the Giraffe. She has lovely purple sparkly eyes and tiny little antlers atop her head.
Do giraffes have antlers? Or are they horns? Or what the heck are those things??
She also got a happy meal. Of which she ate exactly zero because she is so sick.
Soooo, anyway, this is the conversation between the walk in doctor and Amelia whilst I looked on, wanting to reach out and smack the clueless man and say things like, "You can see she's just a wee child, right? Talk to her as you would a wee child." I was forced to act as interpreter since clearly, in med school, they do not teach young doctor wannabe's how to converse with the short and the literal.
Doc: does it hurt to pass water?
Amelia: well, sometimes when I drink water my throat burns and it feels like something is stuck in there and I don't like it.
Doc: oh. Well, I mean, does it, um, hurt to um, pass you-reeeeeen? (He is from a different land than I and has the accent to accompany it)
Amelia: ??? (She looks at me in sheer terror.)
Me: Does it hurt to pee, Amelia?
Amelia: oh, no.
Doctor: when you cough do you have phlegm?
Doctor: sputum. Is there any sputum?
Amelia: Mommy....... (her eyes plead).
Me: (Nodding my head yes.)
Amelia: (nods her head yes, which to him means yes but to me means "I am not having fun anymore and you better get me outta here pronto!")
So I did. Poor kid.
And now, to all the doctor wannabe's around the world, I just want to say: I appreciate your inclination towards decorum and gentlemanly manners, but allow me to inform you of a very special language used by children. It's a real thing. And it involves words like pee and poop and greenish gunky goo from your lungs. And it's okay to say these things to little kids because otherwise they don't understand you and you scare the crap out of them with your hoighty toighty-ness.
Sputum?? Who says sputum?