What you can expect:
The brutal truth of me, without all the sugary coating.
Here I am just me, UNCUT and UNEDITED.
I talk about my family, my divorce, and a lot about MAKEUP.
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Wednesday, March 7, 2012

I'm un-medicated & doctors can't be trusted.

We've talked about it before. Aubrey without her ADD/depression meds is like pissing off Medusa just to see what she might do with all those snakes on her head. This time my only excuse for not having the medication I need is that I haven't had a car or the time to go pick up the prescription. The ADD med I'm on is a controlled substance, which means that in Utah you can't get it filled electronically. What this means for me: I have to drive twenty miles to pick up the actual paper prescription, which they won't even write until I have RUN OUT of meds, and then take it to a pharmacy to be filled. Not a big deal, except that Husband and I operate with just one car. By the time I get off work at 5pm, the office is already closed.

Anyway! All that is just back story. The point is that I have been without medication for about two weeks now, so I'm a walking, mostly-asleep-at-all-times, irritable zombie. My poor family is wondering what happened to Mom and who replaced her with this yelling, weeping, sleeping thing?

So there I was, reading to the kids from their picture encyclopedia (they love it but can't really read all the words yet), aware that Max was quietly playing next to my bed. After a minute I start to wonder, What is he doing down there? He's being too quiet... So I ask him what he's doing.

"I put the green ball up with my boogers!" he announces. He seems proud, but something's not quite right, so I look up his nose. Sure enough there's a little red (not green) ball shoved up his nostril. I panic, because I've seen House - I know what can happen when kids put things up their noses! - and I try to fish it out with a long fingernail. It wedges in there a little further.

Um, no.

I stop trying to get it out, plug his left nostril and tell him to blow his nose. He blows several times, nothing happens. While I'm searching for a flashlight to shine up there, the little red ball disappears from view. Now I don't know if he's successfully blown it out of his nose, or if he's shoved it (or sniffed it) up into his brain.

What do I do? I call my mom, of course.
photo credit
She says what I expected to hear (but needed to hear from her anyway): There's probably nothing that can be done except taking him in. We decide not to go all the way to his regular pediatrician in SLC in the interest of time and gas and decide on urgent care.

I tell the front desk woman that my son stuck something up his nose. I make it very clear that IT MIGHT NOT EVEN BE UP THERE ANYMORE. But it might. She's very friendly, and so is the assistant girl (she was probably not an RN but I don't know), so I figure they're going to be caring and helpful. Well, THEY were. But the problem with doctors is that they see blood and guts ALL THE TIME. When it comes to pain, they cannot be trusted! (Not the horror-flick-doctors-turn-you-into-Frankenstein kind of mistrust, the simpler kind.) The doc came in to the room with an incredibly long tube attached to a syringe (think Epidural length) and tells me to pin down my son so she can stick it up his nose. She doesn't slow down to even THINK about the fact that I might be mistaken about something actually being up there, and she doesn't ask me a single question.

My baby is screaming and huge alligator tears are running down his cheeks. He's hysterical, this woman has a mile-long tube up his nose, and blood is starting to spill out his nostrils. THIS IS NOT HOW THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO GO.

The point is that the tube has a balloon in it, so she inflates the balloon inside his nose and pulls it out, theoretically pulling the ball out with it. Nothing comes out except the tube/balloon and lots of blood. She says, "You're sure it was this nostril?" I then, for the FIRST TIME am able to tell her, "I'm not even sure it's up there AT ALL."

"Oh. Well let's just try one more time," she says, shoving a tube/balloon BACK up my 2yo's nose.

This is breaking my heart and I'm beyond angry that she didn't ask me anything up front. For God sake she could have shined a flashlight up there before she started probing him with sharp objects! Only AFTER she made him bleed TWICE, in BOTH NOSTRILS, did she finally stop and say, "What was it he put up there anyway?"

Is she kidding me? NOW she wants to know what it was? After she's practically PROBED HIS BRAIN?!

The point is that doctors see such horrific things all the time, they have lost the ability to be gentle. This is the root of my fear of doctors/needles/anyone who administers such things. And, thanks to my inability to watch my 2yo every second of every day (and the doctors' inability to even pick up a damn flashlight), now he's going to have the same fear. Long story short, there's nothing up there. I think. It's impossible to be sure. 


  1. It's 2am, and I just want to say - I love your blog.

    So sorry to hear about Max, but I hope that even in your darkest of days - you find the energy to keep blogging because I love every post you publish. ♥

    Again, so sorry to hear about the meds and the crazy things that have been happening. Thank you for sharing and I'll be sending positive vibes your way in hopes that everything turns out OK.

    1. Becky, you are so sweet! Thank you for saying so, totally made my morning!

  2. Why can't your Doctor mail you your Rx? Kenlee's doctor does for us and they are legally allowed to send 3 months at a time.

  3. I am traumatized just from reading about that! Poor little guy!

  4. OMG! I cringe reading this Aubrey and my blood boil! Reminded me of when my son had to be hospitalized from bronchiolitis. He was only 13months old at the time. A young nurse who seemed to be freshly out of school tried to put his IV in but the panicked boy was scared to death and she couldn't find it and finally gave up after sticking him with needles 3 or 4 times and I almost yelled at her to go get a senior nurse. She did! The senior nurse poked him one time and had the IV right. Oh Lord the horror! Give your boy a big hug from me, Mama.

  5. I am so sorry that you had to deal with that doorknob.
    My son stuffed bits of a nerf ball up his nose. Luckily I'm a pediatric ER nurse and I may or may not have a supply of fun tools just for these reasons. I was able to get it out.
    Why do they do stuff like that? Kids.


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