(More than) Fourinarow.net

Having had Sam at 32 weeks, my doctors this time felt it prudent to take some extra steps to prevent another preterm baby.  These steps include injecting me WEEKLY with progesterone until I reach 36 weeks.  Considering that the shots bring me from a 30% chance down to a 10% chance of having a preterm baby, I think it’s well worth it.  Plus, other than the pain of the injection, there are virtually no side effects for me or for the baby.

Virtually.  After experiencing my first injection this afternoon, I think my OB left out a major side effect:  mental anguish (mine) due to current children having to wait an interminable amount of time in the waiting room.   And the exam room.  Today, with Maria home sick from school and a 1:15 appointment, I had three of my children with me.  STUPID, STUPID, STUPID.  I should have rescheduled.  However, there is so much going on in our lives and when you combine that with a busy OB’s office, rescheduling seems almost as intimidating as suffering through with three kids in tow.

There were other children in the waiting room when we arrived.  None were as loud.  Or as active.  Or as belligerent.

Maria made a friend immediately, which helped keep her entertained.  Until the friend was called.  Then she had nothing to do but torture her brothers (and by proxy, her mother).  I really thought that I’d be running in to get a quick shot from the nurse and be done.  Hahahahahahaha.  No such luck.  Just as we approached the “If you’ve been waiting 20 minutes beyond your scheduled appointment time, please notify the receptionist” time, the nurse called me.  She led us into an exam room where she left us (unfortunately) to prepare my injection.  The threat that whoever was the loudest would be the one to receive the injection did very little to quiet them.  Their eyes grew big, they trembled a little, then promptly forgot about it and went crazy.  Sam cleaned his hands several times with Purell.  Then played with the trash can.  Then the sink.  The abacus on the wall kept Luke (loudly) entertained for a few minutes and Maria’s fever was starting to creep back up, so she was starting to droop.  (Sad to say, but thank goodness!)

Finally, the nurse returned, gave me the injection (no pain!!!) and I marched everyone out of there.  Determined to avoid the experience again, I ordered my children to sit at the kiddie table while I made my next few appointments – all for 9 a.m. in the morning while all but one would be in school!  Unfortunately, the scheduler’s desk was slightly around the corner from where my children were.  They took the opportunity to get louder and crazier and louder and crazier.  The nice woman chatted me up as she made my appointments, but I couldn’t concentrate.  My kids were getting louder.  They were LITERALLY starting to climb the walls.  Sam was hanging off the funny mirror that was bolted to the wall and screeching at himself.

The other receptionist started saying, “Hey!  Hey!” in their direction.  Other patients started whispering to each other.  One brave person told Sam to get off of the furniture he was climbing.

Horrified, I ditched the scheduler, marched past all of the gawkers, and went over to my children.  Grabbing Sam by the arm and threatening the other two through clenched teeth, I dragged them back to the desk, grabbed the print out of my appointments and got the hell out of there.

I realize early afternoon isn’t the best time for an appointment.  Especially for Sam, who was missing his nap.  And, I should have realized that whether you’re seeing the nurse, the doctor or a receptionist, there’s no running in and out of the OB’s office.

What I didn’t realize, though, was that my children have a waaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyy below average threshold for waiting.  I mean, MAYBE if I’d gotten called right away, the nurse had been standing in the room with the syringe at the ready and I didn’t have any appointments to make, we could have escaped with very little embarrassment.  But, then again, maybe not.