My brain is pooped. My body is pooped. And the bed is yelling at me. So I will make this quick.
Today started off wonderfully. We met the amazing Kari at S*arbucks so I could personally deliver her prize. Yes, Brandi, she is just as amazing in person. Like, really. I could go on and on and gush for a while, but I don't want to embarrass her. But, seriously, I had a ton of fun. Sadly, Bella was in school, but I did get to meet Scout. He is ADORABLE! Almost two and full of energy! Kari thought he was misbehaving, but I thought he was precious.
And Kat did a pretty good job taking a photo of the two of us, don't you think?
Now, Rachel, no more whining about the lack of Tiff photos on the blog, ya hear?
After coffee, we met my sis-in-love, her mom, and my niece and nephew at the Children's Museum. It was incredible. And I will devote an entire post to it, when I have the functional brain cells.
Then, we headed to the hospital. We met with the GI doctor. Have you ever had that feeling that you weren't being taken seriously? Yup, we got that sense pretty quick with her. She told me that our pediatrician had done an excellent job ordering all the tests she would have ordered (cant argue that point), and that since they were all normal, she was having stomach pain because she was internalizing stress and worry (functional abdominal pain). That since the pain seemed to be getting better the last few days, we should head home in the morning, but call the clinic if it came back or got worse. But that most of these kids feel better once they know all the tests have been run and that there isn't anything really wrong.
Excuse me? I drove 8 hours for that?
Needless to say, it didn't sit well with mama.
So, then we had a conversation. A conversation about how many labs and tests our local hospital has messed up with children, our own child included. A conversation about how our pediatrician sent us here because he suspected that some of the test results were inaccurate. A conversation about how she didn't even look completely through the test results I had brought up to see what had been done, and the inconsistencies in them. A conversation about the licensed counselors and therapists we have been talking to, to make sure she wasn't internalizing stress or developing perfectionism issues, like her Mom.
It is only by the grace of God that I was able to get through the appointment without crying or hitting something. Believe me, I thought about it. Katrina started crying when the doctor was talking about the functional abdominal pain, and the worrying. It didn't click at the time why she was crying. It should have. We (and others) have questioned her so many times throughout this about worries, fears, stresses, etc., that she has struggled with whether or not people believe her. She is afraid people think she is making this up. She knew the doctor didn't believe her when tried to tell her she wasn't worried, or afraid, or stressed about anything. And that broke my heart.
The doctor asked me why a CT scan wasn't done before. When I told her it was because our pediatrician didn't trust our hospital to do it right on a child, the conversation changed. She had us go downstairs for more blood tests, since apparently some of the tests we have already run are really easy to mess up. While we were down there, her nurse got us scheduled for a CT scan tomorrow morning. I have the joy of collecting more poop in a cup - the return of Saint Poopicus!
And if I am going to be functional AT ALL, I need to get some sleep. I talked to a few of my girlfriends tonight on the phone. They helped the mama bear claws retract. I was slightly fit to be tied. A wonderful family friend is meeting us at the hospital in the morning with coffee. Because she knows what it is like to wait in a hospital, and didn't want me to do it alone. I got to talk to our other two precious princesses, and found out they are having a fabulous time with Daddy. Because Daddy takes them to get Frosties and lets them stay up late. Whatever. I got to cry out my frustrations over the phone with my sweet hubby, who loves me even when I snot. No matter what, I have reasons to be grateful.
