Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Colorado Vacation, July 7, 2012. Micah goes to the ER.

 We returned to our new hotel after a long journey to Colorado Springs, where I undressed Micah for his bath. (I hate giving a child a bath in a hotel tub. I hate it. The germs make me ill to think about. I always put a towel down in the bathtub then wear shoes.)

Anyway, upon taking his jeans off, I noticed his spider bite was really, really red. It was pussy, and I freaked out. It was around nine at night when this happened, but it was also our last night in Denver. The rest of our vacation would be spent in Keystone, Colorado, not near a doctor's office.

After checking out the bite, checking out the internet for medical locations and hours, and talking it over, we decided to head to a local emergency clinic that was open until midnight. Micah was scratching the bite, and I was not going to rest until I knew that some flesh eating bacteria was not overtaking his body from some poisonous spider.

I mean, waiting this long was already as laid back as I could be. I wanted to take him the morning of our flight, but we wouldn't have made the flight.

After several hours in a waiting room, letting Micah run around the vestibule area of the building, letting Micah climb the stairs in the common area, and arguing with the receptionist for an hour that we DID have insurance...I was one tired Mama!

I mean, we're in the middle of nowhere and they are telling us we have to pay for the entire visit when we have insurance! Argh!

At any rate, we finally got to see the doctor who says, "It's a spider bite."

"Yes," I say. "I know, but look. It is infected."

Doctor says, "No, I don't believe it is infected. It is just inflamed. There is a difference. His body is fighting it off and trying to heal. Put a warm compress on it to increase blood flow to the bite."

I say, "That's it? No antibiotics? No toxins? Just a warm compress?"

The doctor nods. "Yes, that's all you can do."

Mr. C looks at me and shrugs his shoulders. As we get in the car around eleven that night, he says, "That's the best fifty dollars I ever spent in my life."

I think he is being sarcastic, and I tell him so.

He laughs and says, "No, Leah. A worried Mama isn't a happy Mama. At least you'll be able to sleep tonight despite his bite being nothing. You've been worried for days, at least now you can rest."

That night? I did rest some, but I checked on the bite five more times.

That's what any Mama would do.

No comments:

Post a Comment