• J Mess

LITTLE PINK PILLS FOR YOU AND ME

It’s like Cheers, except it’s the doctor’s office and there’s no alcohol.


Leaving work to go pick up my sick baby from daycare has become somewhat of an extreme sport for me these days. So much so that I’ve considered having a “go-bag” ready at all times in case of the need for emergency evacuation at a moment’s notice. It would consist of my lunch, that I never get to eat, my computer, everything and anything I might need for the next couple days since the daycare 24-hour rule pretty much guarantees when I leave work, I won’t be going back the next day. He has to be fever and/or symptom free for 24 hours before he can return to daycare. A 24-hour nightmare for me.


So I gather my stuff and mope off to tell my coworkers that my son is sick AGAIN, and promise to be back online later whatever that means. WFH, or commonly known as work from home, literally becomes work from HELL when you’re home with a sick child. What’s that? You can’t hear me over the mind-numbing wailings of my offspring? Bummer.



I get on the early afternoon train where I can lay across the entire row because I’m the only person in the train car. I’m the only person in the world who goes into the city at 8am and turns around and leaves at 11. I spent more time on the train than I did in the office. I call the doctor and pleasantly laugh with the receptionist about how this is my life now and she says “weren’t you just here yesterday?” Ha, no actually, the day before, but since we’re becoming so close, I finally decided to add you to my speed dial.


Back when I wanted to be a famous singer, I dreamt of going places and having people recognize me. My dream has come true at the pediatrician’s office.

I've now convinced myself that they might have our faces behind the desk of the doctor's office as frequent offenders. Lord knows they probably think I have Munchausen’s or something. I never wanted to be one of those mothers who runs to the doctor every time the baby coughed or farted, but this was my 4th encounter with medical professionals within a week’s time. That’s actually a new record. Last Friday we had a follow up for his umpteenth ear infection. When we walked in all the doctors waved and sad-smiled and I thought oh my god we’re regulars. Should I feel good about this? Like, yay they know me! Or, uh oh they know me. When we left, the doctor jokingly told us he didn’t want to see us again for a while. That didn’t last long. Monday night my son had a bad rash behind his ear so we did a telemedicine visit on my iPhone. Right before we hung up, the doctor asked if there was anything else and I should have just asked him to move in with me because 2 days later, I was back at the doctor.


Now my son had a ton of diarrhea causing a wicked diaper rash. Oh and I have strep throat. Notice how that came second because I don't matter. I literally cannot recall the last time I was sick enough to necessitate going to the doctor. Probably years ago when I had an insane stye from falling asleep in my fake eyelashes, and my coworkers told me if I didn't get it looked at soon, I might have to get my eyelid flipped to get it removed. I definitely wanted to go to the doctor after hearing that. She says sarcastically. Luckily I don't usually get sick, but apparently now I'll be getting all of the kid illnesses and spending my life at urgent care and with my homies at the pediatrician's office. Because if they didn't have our faces behind the desk before, they definitely do now, after my son trashed the place while waiting for the doctor, like a mini Tommy Lee. Luckily they can use some of the million dollars worth of copays I've had to pay over the last week to buy more paper...

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