Quality Time at the Doctor

Reagan has had hives for two weeks. At first we thought it was the detergent which led to a massive rewash of about 20 loads of laundry. Because everyone loves to do laundry just for the heck of it. Then we thought it might be dietary and we switched around foods. But she kept getting new breakouts, so yesterday I called the doctor to bring Reagan in.

Yesterday, I ended up with a 2:45 appointment and Bill is out of town this week. Unfortunately, the girls' school is 30 minutes in one direction and the doctor is 30 minutes in another. So getting Reagan to a 2:45 appointment meant me walking out the door at 1:30 in the middle of an incredibly busy day. I picked up Reagan and off we go.

When we got to the doctor, the receptionist mentioned something about "hopefully the backlog is clearing up a little now." I didn't think much of it and sat down. If you haven't picked up on Reagan's personality by now, while I may sit down, Reagan doesn't. Reagan doesn't stop moving. Period. Her mind and body are constantly in motion. So within 10 minutes she had already gone through all the children's books twice and was on to perusing cars in the latest Car and Driver magazine (Oh, by the way Daddy, your daughter seems to be particularly fond of a little yellow Ferrari number. I think you're going to need a second job.).

Exasperated of reading material and no one else in the sick kid area to talk to, she targeted the receptionist next. Is it my fault they have chairs under the window? She climbed onto the chairs and knocked on the widow. The unsuspecting receptionist smiled and opened the window (lucky for Reagan she was on the sick side and got the nice one and not the cranky lady on the well side). Here's the conversation:
Reagan: Hey! Why do you have a giraffe right there?
Receptionist: It's just for decoration.
Reagan: Oh. Hey! What's that right there? (she points to the sign-in chart)
Receptionist: That's the sign-in chart. See, that's your name right there "Reagan..."
Reagan: That's my name right there? Reagan? What's that? (she looks on to something else)
This continues for five more minutes until the receptionist politely shuts the window indicating that the conversation is over. That's ok with Reagan because by then she had found a box of tissues and needed to blow her nose. 500 times. With a different tissue each time.

I'm doing everything I can to keep Reagan from ripping wallpaper off the walls. I'm singing with her, we dance in circles until I'm dizzy, we count in Spanish and English, say our ABCs, act out animal sounds and actions, but she eventually grows bored of me. She does well for the first hour in the waiting room. By 1.5 hours she starts saying, "I want to go home. Let's go mommy. Let's get out of here." To keep her eye on the prize and to keep her from a tantrum I tell her, "We can't go. The doctor needs to look at your rash and see if she can make you feel better. Once we let the doctor look at you we'll go get some ice cream, ok?" I get a resounding, "OK" to that one and we are good for another bit.

Finally we get called back. They say Reagan's name and as the lady is holding the door open to the waiting room with the chart Reagan walks right up to her and says, "I want some ice cream. Where's my ice cream?" The lady looks at her strange and takes her back. The nurse comes in and Reagan says, "Do you have ice cream for me?" I'm beginning to regret the ice cream thing. Focused like a laser beam, this kid is. Another 20 minutes in the room and we finally see the doctor:
Reagan: Do you have ice cream? I want some ice cream.
Doctor:No, I don't have any ice cream. But I'll give you a sucker when we are done.
Reagan: Ok, and then I can have some ice cream.
Doctor: Um, show me this rash of yours.
Reagan lifts up her shirt
Doctor: My that is quite a rash. I'm going to give your mommy this medicine. Will you take it every night like a good girl?
Reagan: No.
At least my kid is honest and self aware.

So 2.5 hours later, the diagnosis is hives. Duh! Take Zyrtec once a day and if she still has new hives in two more weeks they'll do allergy testing.

The upside, I had a great afternoon with Reagan. It is so easy to get frustrated with her when she wines or cries and becomes so demanding. I needed an afternoon like this to remind me of the other sweeter, fun side of Reagan. It was nice to have an afternoon where I had absolutely nothing for distractions such as the computer or tv. It was just Reagan and me and we had a great time.

And yes, she finally got her ice cream. Are you kidding? You think she let me forget that?