The Waiting Room

Tuesday was such a cluster@#$% that I can't even describe it.

Here's a snapshot instead:

30 minutes before Grayson's appointment:

• Quick, quick,
• Hurry, scurry, 
• "It's ok kids, we'll be there soon,"
• "Careful in the rain, Mommy, the roads look wet."
• Uh Oh I think we're lost, 

• Following directions, turn around.
• Wait, which way was south again?  
• Let's go back this way, I think this is south.

At the time of Grayson's appointment:

• Can't seem to find the road.
• Where is the damn road?
• This says we are on the right road. Is the map is wrong?
• The damn map is all wrong, they wrote the map wrong!
• HELP

(Calling office phone to let them know we are lost but on our way.)

• Omg, Please answer your phone.
• You're at lunch?  Of course you're at lunch.
• Ok fine, I will call back at 1:00
• It's 1:05, I'm going to have words with someone if you don't answer your phone.

Fifteen Minutes After the time of Grayson's appointment:

• Hello taxicab driver, can you PLEASE tell me what in the SamHill I am doing wrong!?
• Oh, this road also goes across Reston Parkway?
• That makes sense.
• I've been driving up and down the wrong road for 35 minutes
• Yes, yes, I have. 

• I hate myself

• And now I'm 20 minutes late
• Oh, heeeere's the right road.
• 2 minutes away from the wrong road

• I hate myself 

• Ok, kids hurry scurry
• rush, rush
• Let's go!

• "Hi. Yes, I realize we are late but we were soo lost and we called but..."
• "We have to wait until when?  You will try to squeeze us in two hours from now?" 
• "I hate you.  I mean, thank you.  We will be back at 2:45."
• "C'mon Kids, hurry hurry."
• "Let's go get something to eat."

So yes, Grayson did get seen but it was a very cursory neurologist quickie that made me feel shameful and criminal like getting lost in Northern Virginia area is a reprehensible felony.  Maybe it is.  That would explain a lot about the last four years of my life.

Doctor Dan was kind with Grayson despite the fact he was rushing us through the exam.  He rapid fired  twenty-two questions about headaches and family history at me yet smiled warmly at Grayson.

Turns out, according to Doctor Dan, kids just sometimes get migraines no matter what they eat or how much stuffed cotton they shove in their ears to muffle their senses. (I have some in my ears as I type, this sh*t doesn't go away.)  There are a few key triggers to look out for and track down but in the meantime, he may get more.

As Doctor Dan sees it we have two choices:  daily tabs of medicine under the tongue to try to prevent Grayson's migraines or two separate medications to alleviate symptoms at onset of migraine. 

If you and I have been friends very long, you already know what I said.

"Um, you don't want to scan his brain?"

"No, I don't." said Doctor Dan. "Your family history does not give me any reason to. But I do want to see him after he has three more migraines.  Which by the way it looks, will be after the New Year."

"Screw you, A-Hole. "Thank you, Doctor, for making time for us today."

Before we made more smoke, I collected two prescriptions for medications that will hopefully help soften the blow of the hila monster inside his my son's head.  The tricky part is getting them in him before the migraine tries to eat him alive, beginning with his sugar sweet forehead.  Because once it's underway, there is no turning back or softening its attack.  

So, here we are days later with a little boy who is

• positive robbers are coming in his room at night
• asking me to home school him because school is "just too loud."
• begging me to get the "headache pills" today because his head already hurts a little
• telling me he his life is too hard for him

Needless to say, I'm not ok with waiting for answers.  Maybe they don't really plug a little boy's brain up to an XRay machine in real life like they do on Grey's Anatomy but dammit if someone doesn't spend a truckload of time talking with him and explaining to us what is going on.

We cannot sit here patiently in a waiting room anymore.  Not if my little boy's health and happiness is at stake.  Not even if I am twenty five minutes late..