E.R.

Summer has now officially ended as far as Camp Forest Springs is concerned. Labor Day marks the last day of Family Camps and the beginning of my vacation. Of course, as soon as I get home, 4 of us Hofflands, including myself, come down with a high fever. I guess God's timing is good. He knew I would have time to rest. Today marks day 3 of the 101 degree temps for all except Anna who flared up even higher this afternoon accompanied with bad abdominal and chest pain. Well, there were no appointments open at the normal clinic with our usual physician so we had to go to the...... "walk-in clinic." Those of you who are too familiar with this word know the eerie vocal inflections that I use when I write it. (if that's possible) Bless the hearts of those that work at the ...."walk-in clinic" because they are the ones that work the hours no-one else wants to work. Regardless of how nice the folk are that work there, it can be a long endeavor but humorous when telling later to my wife. Yes, I am the one who volunteered to take my little buttercup to the clinic thinking it would be a simple exam, a prescription and on we go. Well, we entered a little room with a door on the East and West walls where Anna had her temp taken and was weighed. Now her temp was up to 103.8. Yeesh. Of course this triggers the folk at the "w.i.c." to admit her to the E.R. which is actually just the next room. So we go through the other door into another small room. There we sit on a couple of cold chairs while I watch my 5 year old daughter shiver and shake and look like death. She is rather dramatic but I know that she is not needing to add much at this point. In this room there are 2 doors as well. The one we just came through which is on the East wall and the other one on the West wall. Both are closed. However the door on the West wall is the one that we will watch with great anticipation and angst. The doctor comes in rather promptly and begins to examine little Anna. He seems to be in a hurry which signals me that he'll get down to business, we'll get her some medicine and we'll be on our way. He notices that her throat looks rather red so he decides to take a strep culture. There are 2 kinds of strep tests. (We Hofflands tend to get Strep a lot) The full culture test that takes at least 24 hours and the rapid test that takes about 10 minutes. No problem. So the doctor proceeds to swab Anna's throat. Of course she calmly complies while gagging profusely and flailing her hands in the air. I was expecting the doctor to ask her "Is it safe?" (Laurence Olivier- Marathon Man) Off they go with the West door shutting. Anna asks me, "Why did they do the choky thing?" I explain to her about the test and what they are doing with the swab that they scraped her throat with. She seems ok with it but continues to ask me with fear and trepidation, "Daddy, do I have to get a shot?"

"No, Anna. Not today. I don't think so. Probably just some medicine, that all." Thinking that there would be no need for a shot.

I give her some Children's Tylenol to help her fever.

About 20-25 minutes later the doctor comes back in and says that the rapid test was negative but that they want to run a blood and urine test on her just to make sure.

"Sure, no problem." I say thinking more about the quick urine sample and not much about the blood test.

Anna asks me, "What're are they going to do."

"They're going to have you pee in a cup."

"What?" (giggling) "When? I want to do that. David and Johnny will think that is funny. When am I going to do that?"

"Soon."

So after hearing about how badly she wants to pee in a cup for 20 minutes, in comes a lab technician pushing a tray full of little tubes and needles.

I had forgotten about the blood test.

"Um, Anna....remember that part about not getting a shot?"

Her eyes get big and taut. "Whimper..."

So after the WWE brawl, we get the test done and the Dora Dora bandage on.


It only took about 5 minutes when the nurse came in again to ask for the urine sample. Anna had just gone before we arrived so there so wasn't much left on tap.

With all bodily fluids sampled and offered, the door closes again.


A half hour goes by.

Anna's fever is starting to drop and she is looking better physically. But the long wait in the little sterile room is starting to mess with her mind and she starts babbling.

"Daddy, I want to Flooba dooba farber daba."

I dare to open the door and peek out. I see a man sitting behind a desk.

"How long till the tests come back?"

"Oh, we're waiting for one more."

"Ok. Thanks." I shut the door and sit back down.

We wait for about 10 more minutes. There is a window right next to the West door but the blinds are shut on them. I bend my neck and try to get a glimpse between the slits. My conspiracy side is starting to conjure up images of them all talking to each other about how long they think it will take for me to open the door again.

My will is not that strong. I open the door again.

This time I say nothing as I see the doctor is there at the desk facing the man I had talked to before. They finally make eye contact with me and realize that they were mistaken and that the test they have been waiting for had come back.

"We'll be right in with those." they inform me.

I close the door and sit down.

"How long are we going to be here, Daddy?... Doogie Floogie flapper doodle."

We're going to need a therapist after this visit.

The doctor comes in and lets me know that the Blood count was normal but there were a few "puss-cells" in her urine.

"Puss-cells?" I ask.

"Yes. So we're going to have the lab run a deeper culture on her urine. In the meantime we are going to put her on an anti-biotic and send you on your way."

"Great! Thank you." Door closes. "Well, Anna we're going to get to go soon. Just hang in there.

Another half an hour goes by.

Again, I'm peeking through the blinds. How far did they have to go do get an antibiotic? Were they growing the mold as we waited?

Anna's eyes are now crossed and she's chewing on her toes.

I open the door.

There is the same man sitting behind the desk along the the original nurse but now a new lady standing in front of the desk. The man makes eye contact with me again. "Can we help you?"

"Yeah, um..are we waiting for the prescription? or....."

The new lady spins around and immediately I get an image of Nurse Ratchet from One Flew over The Cukoo's Nest.

Speaking to me as if I was on Romper Room, "They are getting the instructions."

"Ok." I shut the door.

I sit back down. My mind can't decide whether to be perturbed by the fact that the older I get, the more doctors and nurses speak to me as if I were in diapers, or the fact that it takes a half an hour to find the instruction manual for a medicine that I found out later they keep on their shelf all the time.

10 minutes later the original nurse walks in. She has the medicine and the instructions. As she starts to tell them to me I can't help but to inquire about the infamous "puss-cells" they found in my daughters 2 ounces of urine which is why we ended up staying for another hour. I regretted my question quickly as she went into a disertation about vaginal folds and the bacteria that live there.

So finally, we have the medicine, we have the prescription, we have everything we need. We're about to get up to leave when my daughter pipes up with...

"Daddy, do they have any stickers?"

"Sure." The nurse says and she starts heading for the door. It was like slow motion when it closed.

"NOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooo." my mind screams as I hear the click of it shutting.

We wait only 2 minutes this time and I open the door again. Of course as soon as I do, the East door, behind me, opens with the same nurse, stickers in hand and a scolding look on her face as I stand there with the West door ajar. It was almost like she ran around the hall, on-purpose, just to come in the other way just to catch me.

"Um..it's just that when this door closes...um.(stumble, stumble)"

Anna thanks her and takes the stickers.

I don't think I ever walked out of the doctor's faster than I did this evening.

It's going to be a long while before I buckle into going into the...

(thunder clap, lightning)

..."walk-in clinic."