A guaranteed way to make me go postal

As I've mentioned ad nauseum, we leave for Orlando early Thursday morning. And, as usual when we're getting ready to head out of town, Monkey Man started with this icky cough thing yesterday afternoon. You know, because no trip out of town is complete without trying to figure out how to haul antibiotics that require refrigeration around through airports, rental cars, theme parks, and hotel rooms. Geesh.

My brother-in-law is Monkey Man's pediatrician, and normally I can call in a favor or swing by the office and run in the back door to get a quick check. Not today, though - poor guy was getting a root canal done and a crown too, so I knew he was going to be out of touch for at least a day or two. So I put my big-girl panties on and called the office to get an appointment.

As luck would have it, the only person they had appointments with was the nurse practitioner that I hate the most. I generally have a pretty low opinion of the nurse practitioners in this area, because more often than not they have misdiagnosed Monkey Man (for one small example see Hospital Drama from last October, thank you Nurse Practitioner from The Other Practice) which has led to other issues. And I knew that having an appointment with this particular one was pretty much like pissing in the wind - everything is "just a cold" and she refuses to give medication. However, I also knew that if I didn't bring him in, with Murphy's Law we'd be at the urgent care place Tuesday night. So I bit the bullet and went.

We got in the waiting room and there were only two seats left. We ended up waiting 1.5 hours to get in, and by that point I was pretty edgy. Okay, bitchy. So Nurse Cratchett came in and deemed that it was "just a cold".

"Look, we're headed to Florida on Thursday and I don't want to get stuck down there with nothing to give him if it gets any worse...."

"Mrs. Builder, it's just a cold. I will not give you anything."

"Okay, what part of this don't you understand...okay, let me put it to you this way - Dr. Brother-in-Law will not be happy if I have to call him from Florida because you wouldn't give me at least a sample to get me through a few days until we can get back home. Right?"

"It's just a cold."

"I DON'T CARE. I want you to give me something. I have been here almost two hours and I am not walking out of here without something."

So we have a few sample packs of Orapred and I had to practically sign away my life that I would not give Monkey Man any unless he's super wheezy or anything. Jesus Mary, what an ordeal.

On the brighter side, Monkey Man got to spend most of the day with Joey at his office and then about an hour with me at my office before we took off for Pediatric Hell. He had a blast, and he got to eat at his newest favorite restaurant in the whole wide world. What do you think the kid with parents that love gourmet food would love to eat the most?

Taco Fucking Bell, that's what. Karma at it's finest.

Off to fondle my contraband boxes of Orapred....