Good Thing I Had That Appointment

Since I had to share it with Clive.

As I was getting ready to go and see my GP about my ongoing stomach issues, aka Bubba, Clive decided he would come into the bathroom and keep my company. I was in the shower when Clive brought one of the kids stools over to the countertop and started reaching for things that were normally out of his two-year-old grasp. Usually he just wants to wash his hands or brush his teeth with our toothbrushes. It was hard for me to see him between the water, the shower glass and no glasses or contacts, but it looked like he was going for the cotton buds, or Q-Tips as we call them back Stateside.

"Clive," I said in my best warning voice. "Put those down." He loves cotton buds, and The Hermit and I are always having to put them well out of reach and not let him help us when we clean his ears.

And as usual, Clive ignored me. I started rushing through the rest of my shower, continuing my litany of "Put those away NOW."

As best as I can figure, Clive lost a little of his balance while stepping back up on to, or maybe down from, the stool. With a cotton bud in his ear. Can you see what happened? He fell against the doors with the side of his head that had the bud in it... and let out a loud shriek of pain just as I turned off the water.

I knew it, as soon as I heard his scream, that he'd done some serious damage. I calmed him the best I could, which wasn't all that much as he clutched his ear, dressed quickly and hustled out the door to the GP. I figured he could have my appointment, if nothing else.

Since my GP is totally awesome she naturally saw us both (although not so totally awesome that they didn't bill us both, but since they bulk bill for kids 16 and under it didn't cost me any more than if I had gone), with Clive first up. And yes, as I suspected but hoped against, he ruptured his right eardrum. I think her words were "totally shredded". She put a call into the ENT registrar up at Royal Children's Hospital so Clive could get in right away.

As it turned out, they phoned me an hour or so later and we determined that since there was no bleeding - aside from the initial blood from the rupture - and Clive was now comfortable they would see Clive in their clinic on Friday. To look at Clive just before bedtime you'd never know what had happened earlier that day. Unless you looked into his right ear and saw the dried blood.

So don't I feel like the worst mother ever. I managed 3 kids before Clive without any traumatic at home injury, but now... I know kids hurt themselves all. The. Time. Gabe and I are walking proof of that. But this is my first serious one with one of my kids, and I feel terrible about it.

As for my own problems with Bubba, the GP feels pretty certain it's my gallbladder. And I admit to letting out an "oww" when she started poking at my right side, as opposed to the muffled "mmmphf's" I let out when she poked the rest of my abdomen. I'm off for blood tests and an ultrasound tomorrow, then an appointment next week to discuss the results and the plan - which will likely be a referral to a surgeon to get Bubba removed.

As of this moment, Clive is asleep and I'm curled up on the couch watching game 2 of State of Origin with more cramps and belching instead of working for The Large Grocery Store That Employs Me like I'm scheduled to. I'm taking lots of pain killers and muscle relaxants to try and feel better (although having to listen to Gus Gould may negate the effect of the drugs), and Clive seems pain-free. I could really do without this, but I'd take it all and then some if it meant poor Clive didn't have to have this day.