Normally, when something comes up like this, I tend to cancel speech, but as we'd just missed two sessions for vacation and they have a policy of dropping clients if attendance drops below 80% in 30 days--that wasn't a viable option this week.
So Wednesday comes and it was a nightmare as expected. The first IBS episode happens after we pass Dollar Tree, I take 2 Imodium and stop at my usual McDonald's bathroom. Back on the road, we hit construction and I get another episode and there's nowhere to stop before PCH, so I pop another Imodium, make it through the construction and eventually get to the hospital.
Although it felt like we waited forever (and the waiting room was packed), it wasn't even 11am by the time the doctor came in. So that was good, we made it home about 12:10, moved straight into lunch, and made it to speech, exhausted but on time.
We were like a traveling circus at the doctor's office. In the waiting room, my kids were jumping off the furniture and squealing like banshees. In the exam room, I'm trying to talk to the doctor while L and T wrestle on a chair. And I'm a mess because the whole thing gives me great (IBS-related) anxiety. Circus!
So having survived Wednesday, I promptly do nothing on Thursday or Friday, can't even manage to take us to the grocery when we run out of whole milk, I just feed T skim milk instead. Fail.
Saturday was "workday" at L's preschool. Two hours passed super-slowly as I bleached toys and cleaned a fan and generally tried to make myself useful. Never mind that I don't clean my own home, I cleaned up the preschool. Thank you, Hubby, for not pointing out that irony. Bright side--I met several nice moms from L's class.
All four guaiac cards were negative. I asked for a "big picture reality check" because hello, my son is 5 and drinks a bottle and poops in a diaper. First, she said these issues derive from a medical problem. Second, "we messed up" on behavior (her words--I think she means we didn't break the bottle habit soon enough, on her advice) but we are all grateful he never needed a tube (amen to that!). We talked about the poop issue, which she called a normal developmental stage, and told me a few tricks to try including a laxative. She didn't have any new input on the getting-through-the-school-day issue, I said we're sending a lunch box full of food plus a thermos of Neocate and he's just going to have to figure out that if he's hungry he has to either eat or drink.
The young girl in the waiting room in a wheelchair with a breathing tube gave me a "big picture reality check" too. Things could be a lot worse!