I Was Tired!

That's my excuse, plain and simple. What had happened was. . .

CJ said he was sick last week. Too sick to go to work.

Hmmm-Hmmm. . .

Tuesday evening, he was not feeling better. When I came home from work, I asked if he'd called the doctor. No.

No?! Why hadn't he done this sooner? Why would you be too sick to go to work, have sufficient medical coverage, and not call the doctor?

I took the phone and explained his symptoms -- fever, chills, body aches, sore throat. The nurse didn't want us to wait until the appointment, tomorrow, but instructed me to take him to the ER. The conversation went something like this:

Me: Can I take him to the urgent care facility (just a few miles from our house)?

Nurse: No. I think he needs more care than they can provide.

Me: What brought you to this conclusion?

Nurse: Yada, yada, yada. . .

Me: Ok.

Nurse: Do you understand me?

Me: Of course I understand you!

Nurse: Yada, yada, yada. . .

Me: I said I understood you!

Again, in my defense, I think I need to say that I'm not a horrible mother (most of the time). I was just very, very tired. And, he is an adult. At least that's what he tells me whenever I offer him advice.

So, I look at the kid and say: It's 6:30, traffic is heavy, and I'm tired. If you are so sick we need to go to the ER, we'll go. If you can wait until your appointment, tomorrow. . .

We go to the ER. They see him almost immediately.

Yes, I'm feeling guilty. But I don't have time to wallow in it, the Dr. comes in.

The doctor asks him some questions, but since his throat is sore, I respond. He asks some more questions, I respond. Dr. looks at me quizzingly, but doesn't say anything. Dr. talks some more, I ask more questions. Dr. explains the treatment plan, I question it. During all this the kid says nothing, just nods in my direction.

When the nurse enters to administer his meds, which includes a shot in the boom-boom, she asks the kid if I need to leave. He's still not talking, so I say, No, I've seen it all before.

We're preparing to check out when the nurse, hesitantly, pulls me aside.

Nurse: What's your relationship to the patient?

Me: He's my son (with a somewhat confused look on my face).

Nurse: (Having an A-ha Moment) We thought you were his sister, or girlfriend.

People, it's 10pm, my make-up has worn off, my hair is uncombed, my clothes are wrinkled from being in/out of the car, I know I do not look like this chile's sister and I fo' damn sho' do not look like his girlfriend!

I think these people need to be drug tested!

P.S. I redeemed myself by treating him to a scoop of ice cream on the way home. All is right, again, in the Motherhood.