Are You Kidding Me!?!

**Before I start this freakishly long post I just want to say that I wish Renee and I didn't live such parallel lives for if we didn't this never would have happened to me.

Good: When something happens and I think to myself, "This will make a great blog!" Bad: When a whole day happens and I think to myself, "This would make a really good book. I just don't know if it would be a drama or a comedy." Almost everything that happens to me eventually turns to comedy though, so here we go.

It all started at 3:42pm when I got off the phone with the nurse who told me the only opening our doctor had before the weekend was at 4:15 and I might want to get there early. We live 35 minutes away from the doctor's office but Jack was coughing pretty bad which was making his breathing labored. Most likely RSV. We've been there before, a lot. So even though I had no choice but to take all three kids with me and realistically couldn't even be there on time I said I'd take the appointment.

Fast forward an hour and a half. The doctor already confirmed that his breathing was bad, his oxygen levels a bit low, and it would be best to get him on an inhaler. She wrote up the prescription and faxed it in to the pharmacy. I drag the kids into the store and walk up to the pharmacy tech who had to be all of 16 years old. He looks us up on his computer and shrugs his shoulders and says, "Sorry, they must not have called it in. It's after 5 so you're just gonna have to wait till tomorrow." Oh, no little boy, you did not just say that to me. I immediately pull out my cell phone (cause I'm cool and I know how to use it now) and call an after hours line and ask a nurse to call it in again. I go back up to Doogie Howser and ask him to look again. He confirms that it's still not there and I say I'll come back in 15 minutes to check again. I walk around the store for 20 minutes and come back to wait in line for 15 more just to ask the kid if it's in. He said it got called in as I was walking away (but apparently he didn't feel the need to tell me). I go to the "pick-up line" where they tell me it will be an hour to an hour and a half. Seriously. I should have known better.

I drag the kids back out to the car and go buy them ice cream and we drive around forever (said in the Sandlot voice) before finally returning. We wait in line for 20 minutes before the lady gives us the news that it's still in the "beginning process" and will be at least another hour. We walk around more. We return an hour later and wait in line for another 15 minutes. Good, it's done. I look at the price-total in horror and she asks, "You didn't have an insurance to bill, did you?" "YES, I DID!" "Oh, oops. Sorry. Take this whole thing and go wait in that first line again."

By this time the kids are completely in melt down central and I'll admit I was right there with them. I felt like pulling someone's hair out. We get to the "insurance" line and end up with Doogie again (great) only to find out that insurance pays for like 2% of this stuff and we get to pay the rest. FINE. I don't even care just get me outta here. Doogie sends us to the end of the other line (again) and finally we get squared away. All we have to do is wait to "consult" with the pharmacist who eventually tells us our doctor is wrong and Jack's too young for the mouth piece she prescribed to go with the inhaler and we'll need to buy the mask that happens to be $54 (a plastic mask!) As we are waiting in the second line (for the 6th time) I look down to see that Jack has wet through his pull-up all the way down to his socks, Carter has already broken the toothbrush holder I had bought earlier, and Natalie was sitting criss-cross-applesauce in the middle of the floor singing to herself while she swayed back and forth. When we get up to the front of the line and the lady says, "I'm not sure I know how to do this type of transaction." Carter yells, "This day just keeps getting worser and worser and I'm NOT kidding!" As we were finally walking out the pharmicist waves to get my attention so that he could let me know "this medicine will make him a bit hyper." Right. Of course it will.

Finally we get home (4 hours after we entered the store the first time). I end up having to literally sit on Jack and hold his hands down to get him to "try" the medicine. I finally get Jack to bed (before the hyper-ness set in) and go back into the kitchen to find Carter pushing the inhaler button and watching "mist" come out over and over again. "Look Mommy, rain!" You have got to be flipping kidding me! Seriously, I did not just spend $85 and 3 1/2 hours at that pharmacy so that Carter could pretend the albuteral is rain. I have no idea how much is left, but pretty much--- I don't even care right now. I'm now going to bed. Happy. My husband is coming home tomorrow, my kids are all finally sleeping (sans the cough), and I made it through this day because God is good (albiet comedic, nonetheless good).