Pull Up a Stool and I’ll Tell You a Tale
There are days when your own life seems surreal to you.
I mentioned the G/I doctor has ordered a bunch of tests for young Wonderboy. For some of the tests, we needed to deliver a stool sample to the Children’s Hospital—between the hours of 9 and 11:30—within one hour of, er, the sample’s production, if you know what I mean. The first hour of the day was filled with suspense. Would he or wouldn’t he? When would he?
Suddenly, at 8:15, there it was. Cue instant frenzy of parental activity, gathering lab slips, notating the time on the side of sample containers, barking out prepare-to-travel instructions to various children. It was downright cinematic, like the scene when the transport team flies into motion to get the liver or the heart to the desperate patient on the other side of the country. You could almost hear Ride of the Valkyries playing on the soundtrack.
I’d been given three separate vials whose tops unscrewed to reveal tiny, pointed spoons with which to scoop the precious commodity. Gross. Seriously gross. Scott put his own life at risk by saying, as he watched me maneuver a loaded (so to speak) spoon into the vial’s narrow opening, “It takes a very steady hand…”
What kind of crazy man messes with a woman armed with poo?
With astonishing rapidity I found myself in the minivan, large brown bag of samples stowed in the passenger seat (ew), boy and baby buckled in behind me. Before backing out of the driveway, I invested thirty valuable seconds in tucking my Bluetooth into my ear and dialing Alice‘s number because, you know, we share everything.
“Houston,” I crowed, “we have liftoff!”
Alice happened to be at a Dunkin Donuts drivethrough window and I’m sure she was just really super happy to hear all about my adventures in poop-collecting. Sorry about that, sweetie. I hope you hadn’t ordered the chocolate cream-filled.
I could go on with this, but frankly the rest of the day was a bit anticlimactic. We made it to the lab with twenty minutes to spare, happily relinquished the brown bag to the care of gentle lab techs, waited in a line that materialized out of thin air at the stroke of nine for my poor boy’s turn in the bloodletting room (more tests), and returned to our happy home in plenty of time for an early lunch.
Not that I felt much like eating.
Later in the day, believe it or not, there was yet another doctor appointment (at the ped’s office this time, not the hospital), and then I braved the waiting-until-almost-the-last-minute crowd at the grocery store to buy cream for our Thanksgiving dessert (Scott’s famous grasshopper pie) and thirty or forty other small items I suddenly remembered I needed for turkey day. (On which, as it happens, we eat ham.)
Then I cooked and cooked and cleaned and cleaned (tomorrow is Shakespeare Club), and—dare I say it?—I’m pooped.
Susan says:
Too funny! These kinds of sample collecting are just so much fun (NOT)! I wonder if it counts as your nature study for the day?
Thanks for sharing. Your writing really helped lift my blue mood this evening. I’m grateful.
Shakespeare Day, oooh, I’m jealous!
On November 24, 2009 at 10:44 pm
Laurie M says:
J doesn’t have class tomorrow. Should we come visit??
On November 24, 2009 at 11:27 pm
sarah says:
Oh dear, I was going to write something loving and sympathetic but you cracked me up so much with the last line, it’s plum gone out of my head!
I do hope they can give you a diagnosis (a nice one) so you can help Wonderboy thrive.
On November 24, 2009 at 11:36 pm
Kez says:
lol – luckily I haven’t had that fun and excitement yet!
On November 25, 2009 at 1:58 am
Mary G. says:
Lissa … you are an amazing woman: you can make a great, humorous article (and a really bad joke) out of the most heart-wrenching situations.
Prayers that the docs figure out what is wrong … and prayers and hugs for a great Thanksgiving!
On November 25, 2009 at 4:10 am
Margie says:
Laughing out loud picturing Scott hovering over your shoulder and whispering “it takes a steady hand”. Am sharing this post w/ Woody! Hooray for mommyhood!
On November 25, 2009 at 7:47 am
shaun says:
Would it be wrong to say I’m in love with your husband? I mean, I’m in love with *my* husband more, but your husband sometimes just slays me.
So sorry for a sh**y start to your day!
On November 25, 2009 at 7:50 am
Tabatha says:
Shakespeare sidetrack:
A friend told me recently that her daughter hadn’t wanted to try out for a Shakespeare play because she saw a tv show where being in a Shakespeare play was really boring. Zack and Cody, I think she said it was. We don’t watch it, but when she told me, I thought, Thanks a lot, Zack and Cody.
On November 25, 2009 at 7:52 am
Ellie says:
*bemused* Oh, hon. Does it get any better than this? All those cliches about these being the years you will miss, and tell stories about to your grandbabies … they’re all true.
Many {{hugs}} and on-going prayers for Wonderboy’s health.
On November 25, 2009 at 8:22 am
Milehimama says:
Oh, we did the poop scoop sample thing for a year and a half. Luckily for us, I just had to seal it up and pop it in the mail.
I feel sorry for the lab tech on the other end, though.
Hope you get some answers! And you’ll probably get a ton of hits off this post – my “how to get a urine sample from a baby” post is my most popular one (and what does THAT say about my blog?)
On November 25, 2009 at 12:02 pm
mamacrow says:
you sent POOP in the MAIL?!
wow. and there I was thinking that’s the kinda a thing people get prosecuted for 😉
On November 25, 2009 at 1:53 pm
Eileen Smithdeal says:
Love the puns!
I do hope they find out what’s at the root of your little guy’s health problems. Love you and thinking of you. Happy Thanksgiving!~Eileen
On November 25, 2009 at 9:13 pm
Eileen Smithdeal says:
Reminds me of when I worked in an elementary school years ago. One of the mothers was concerned because her daughter had swallowed a quarter. She asked me if I could please collect her daughter’s poop and cut it open to find the quarter.Then she would know if it had come out for sure. Thank God, she found it herself the next morning before school…Can you imagine?????
On November 25, 2009 at 9:27 pm
Elizabeth@Frabjous Days says:
Oh, and I thought Americans didn’t do scatalogical humour 😉
Sympathy all round for the tests, but great post!
On November 26, 2009 at 2:34 pm
Anna says:
You know, I didn’t get the title of this post until I commented on the previous post. Nice. 😉
On November 28, 2009 at 3:11 pm
Penny in VT says:
Hoping that the doctor’s can help you, once and for all, answer the continuing questions, and allow you to move forward in health and joy. Praying for you friend, and extra special prayers for sweet Wonderboy.
On November 30, 2009 at 4:45 am
Bridget says:
I had to do this same thing with my 4 year old over the weekend. Yuck.
I hope they find some answers for Wonderboy!
On December 1, 2009 at 7:29 am