The Children's Hospital

When I had my annual reading, my astrologist warned me that life wasn't going to start to settle until September. She wasn't joking.

And yes. I have an astrologist. And a therapist. What part of "I'm a Californian" do you not understand?

The last couple of months especially have been ridiculous and if it slows down in four weeks, I might go into shock. All this means that while I've been posting on a fairly regular basis, there are oodles of draft languishing in my files, waiting for me to run a spell check, add a picture or two, and post.

Like this one.
Elizabeth had her first appointment with Valley Children's Hospital. We drove over after work on Wednesday, knowing there was no way we'd be able to be up and out of bed in time to make the trek and be there for an 8:00 appointment.

Joseph stayed with Rachel and Benny while Chad and I headed east with Elizabeth. Well, northeast, if you want to be technical. I made the colossal mistake of letting Chad pick the hotel.

As he checked in, I watched a series of people wander by drinking out of paper bags. Pulling out my phone, I queued up a song that fit the mood perfectly.

Chad got back into the car as Elvis croon, "In the ghetto."

He was not amused.

Elizabeth, however, was excited. While she's stayed in hotels before, she doesn't remember it. She jumped around the room, looking in the closets, opening drawers and proclaiming "that" bed as Mommy and Elizabeth's. We went for ice cream and to find purple fingernail polish and then wandered back, ready to collapse.

The next morning, after painting Elizabeth's nails and toes a beautiful, vibrant purple, we drove to the hospital. I've never been to a children's hospital, so I wasn't sure what to expect.

As we pulled into the parking lot, Elizabeth pointed and exclaimed over hedges cut into animal shapes. There were statues of more animals and children playing. The interior was painted in bright colors, with prints of playing children on the walls. The counters were all kid level and every waiting room had cartoons on. They did everything they could to make it a place that wasn't scary.

We met with our doctor. Towering over us so tall he had to duck to enter the room, he was gentle and patient while Elizabeth started screaming bloody murder. After so many appointments that resulted in sticks and pokes and shots, she has a decidedly real aversion to doctors.

He sent us on our way with the first of nine total fun stickers to get an x-ray and lab work.

The x-ray room was a jungle with stuffed animals cavorting amongst trees. Monkeys swung on vines and even the ceiling was covered with palms and animals. They gave Elizabeth stickers and sent us to the lab.

The lab was rough. Her poor little veins ran away as soon as they tried to poke her. She screamed, she kicked, she told the woman, "Please stop that. I don't like it. Don't touch me."

It put me in tears. Those were the words I taught her to use if someone did something she didn't like. Snuggling her close, I kissed her head and whispered they would stop soon and then we were going to go get the prettiest toy she could find at Toys R Us.

Finally, they found the vein and drew the blood, sending us with a limp and exhausted little girl back down to the doctor.

The good news was that her body seems to be responding well to medication. The bad news is that the mass in her lungs is still there. The Valley Fever isn't near gone yet and we'll be heading back in August. And each month after until they see marked improvements.

I don't know if we'll be able to handle any more lab work.

Even with Toys R Us.