Tales From The Toybox

…we’ll be fine because Kayley has Shingles! LOLOLOL I crack myself up! OK, so maybe it’s not THAT funny, especially considering it’s true. Sheesh! If it’s not one thing, it’s another around here, ESPECIALLY with Kayley. Luckily only .000001% of her ailments are every really anything at all to be concerned about. She’s constantly complaining about one oddity or another on her body. 

If you ask Kayley about her shingles she will tell you the doctor didn’t look closely enough or run enough tests because she is convinced she has developed the beginning stages of terminal skin cancer, not Shingles. I can’t imagine where her paranoia comes from!!! <excuse me a sec…OLIVIA!!! Don’t touch that frog! Do you want to be covered in warts????> Anyway, however annoying and slightly painful the next few weeks may be for her, Kayley will live to see another day and fear another deadly virus. In the past few months alone, NO JOKE, we have seen the doctor 2 times because she was, “Absolutely 100% certain” that something was wrong. The first time was back in April only a week or so after I had given birth to Carson. Kayley ran into my bathroom and insisted that something was not right…”down there.” After questioning her for a few minutes all I could gather from her was that there was DEFINITELY something there that shouldn’t be. I assured her she was completely normal (although she’d almost convinced me she’d grown some huge grotesque tumor) and scheduled an appointment with our pediatrician just for her peace of mind (OK and maybe mine too). As I had hoped, the pediatrician gave her an A+ on anatomy, told her to stop worrying and sent her on her way. THIS was not good enough for Kayley. She insists her examination was not in-depth enough…no cold metal instruments were used, no telescopes, slides or giant Q-Tips had been anywhere in sight and there was no possible way her giant cancerous mass could have been seen without an 800 watt flood lamp. SO I decided to schedule an appointment with a female gynecologist. Surely if Kayley heard from another female doctor who specializes in V’JayJays and just so happens to have a V’JayJay of her own, she will then be able to relax. So, I lug my 1 week old colicky infant back into the same waiting room I’d just spent the last 9 months waiting in, pay another $20 co-pay, and hope and pray that Kayley will receive the flashing lights-Pomp and Circumstance-confetti-seal of approval she’s hoping for from <read slowly and with a deep voice> The Official V’JayJay Doctor.  

As I hold Carson in the waiting room I can feel the heat from the eyes of hugely pregnant women all around me burning holes into the back of my head. I just want to jump up and shout at them, “He was almost 10 freaking pounds people!! I’m STILL suffering just like you are. Give me a break already!” but I refrain and simply return their stares with a scowl of my own. I do NOT want to be there. Carson starts fussing and a quick glance at the time tells me he’s probably hungry. Already I can barely sit, the pain from my bottom almost unbearable…now I’ve got to add little Parana Boy to my cracked and bleeding nipples. This day could not get much worse, but for the sake of Kayley’s peace of mind…I progress through it.  Finally they call us back. Kayley puts on the stylish hospital gown and begins answering questions from the nurse. After each answer, “No, I’m not sexually active. No, I’m not on birth control pills…” the nurse looks at me. Finally she asks me to leave the room. What??? I’m her mother! How dare she…but she did. The doctor came in, what seemed like hours later, and finally called me back in the room. The official word from <read slowly> The Official V’JayJay Doctor was… we spent $20 on a co-pay, $15 in gas, 45 minutes in traffic, 52 minutes in a crowded waiting room, and 30 minutes in the doctor’s office for NOTHING! Everything inside and out is completely normal. Half relieved and half completely irritated we make the long walk back to the car. Kayley knows better than to utter a word. We ride in silence (not counting, of course, Carson’s high-pitched, relentless screaming) until we are only a few miles from home. Finally Kayley has the nerve to ask, “That doctor was awful young. Do you think she knows what she’s doing?” Ugh!!! 

So today, my poor hypochondriac child is suffering from a real case of shingles. Shingles, if you don’t know, is caused by the same virus that causes chicken pox. This virus can lie dormant in your body for years and if it turns into shingles it can be very painful. I looked it up on the internet and made the mistake of telling Kayley it was also a form of herpes. I thought she was literally going to pass out. The doctor prescribed Valtrex and Kayley said, “You mean the stuff in that commercial where they say, ‘I have herpes, but I take Valtrex so SHE <points to hot blonde beside him> doesn’t get it’????” Yep, I tell her. That’s the one! Sensing another panic attack I reassure her that it’s not the same kind of herpes, that she can only get this once, and that it is simply an excruciatingly painful blistering virus that mostly people in there 80’s get. Having fulfilled my motherly duties, I proudly walk away leaving her wide-eyed with her jaw on the floor. My job here is done.