When it rains it pours.

Maybe I was wrong to mock life, with that "it couldn't get any worse" comment. Ooh, look at me at the bottom. Poor, poor, me. I take it back, Ok, are you listening. I. Take. It. All. Back. Do not bring it, not even a little, just keep it all far, far away from me. But now it is too late. Apparently there are no take backs in the game of life. Dang. Bummmmer!

Diana has been complaining that her ear hurt, ever since the day after she got home. So that was Thursday, when we were busy trying to get out of the hospital. I contemplated taking her across the street to urgent care. But honestly, I wondered if she was just trying to get as much attention at Jared. So I actually talked one of the doctors at the hospital into just looking in her ear. Just tell me if I need to go to the doctor, that is all I am asking. The doctor looked and said it looked fine. Diana was still so whiny and so we left and stopped at the corner drugstore and bought some ear drops. Once again, I listen to a doctor and ignore the inner mother voice that said she was really sick. Will I never learn?

Friday she was still complaining, but I would put the drops in and that would seem to help her. I honestly thought it was just the placebo affect. And I was so tired yesterday, I never did anything more for her. Last night she was so whiny again. I figured it was just that she has been basically motherless for a month. That seems to justify a little whining. So I held her, rocked her, gave her a bath, washed her hair, and put her to bed.

Today she had some friends over for most of the day. I took advantage of how occupied she was, and really got things cleaned up around here. Did some laundry, unpacked from the hospital, and cleared out some furniture so that Jared can walk around the house when he needs to. Then, after another yummy delivered dinner, Diana and I went to Wal Mart and got a few things we have discovered we needed. All through Wal Mart she kept saying how bad her ear hurt.

I finally gave in and took her to urgent care. I felt like a prisoner marching to the guillotine as we drove to this place that is right across that street from the hospital. Surprisingly we were in and out of there in an hour. I had prepared myself for a two hour wait. And yes, she does have an ear infection. Because of course, why wouldn't she when I mocked the Gods of Health and Wellness. Especially in writing and on the public Internet. And so for me, Yes, another nomination for worst mother award to make her suffer for three days before I finally took her to the doctor.

We had a very nice doctor. I told him a little bit about Jared and would that be contagious or have anything to do with her earache. He said no, especially at this point. Then I asked if there was any way he could give me the once a day Zithromax. Because lets face it, I need another prescription to keep track of, like I need another hole in my head. He agreed, (about the easier drug, not that I needed a hole in my head) but of course our insurance would only pay for the amoxicillin. So why not, I will just add it to my spreadsheet of things to do at certain times during the day. I'll be fine making sure she takes medicine three times a day for ten days, that she hates more than walking across hot coals, NO PROBLEM. Then I asked the doctor if there was any way I could steal a hospital gown, because it would be so nice to have two of them. He said here hide this in your purse and don't tell anyone. So now we have an official hospital gown, and the newly purchased one. Always nice to have more than one set of clothes to wear.

And so with our pilfered pajamas, we drove straight to the pharmacy. When we got there they told me that their computer showed that Diana was allergic to penicillin. Oh yea, that does sound familiar. When she was about 3 months old she did get a rash one time. And so we have always said "yes" to her being allergic. But I could swear that at some time in the past year, she took some amoxicillin and did not have any reaction. The really scary thing is that I know that is the case for me. I had a rash once when I was about 8, but for some reason I know I took some amoxicillin in the past few years and nothing, I was fine. So I had Walgreen's take the allergy caution off of my file.

The pharmacist tried to call the doctor back, but only got a recording saying they were closed for the weekend. I have a kid in total pain. I would almost swear that it will be fine. The pharmacist says he will give it to me. I can just watch her and at the first sign of any rash, stop the medicine and give her Benedryl. Or worst case scenario if she has trouble breathing, take her to the Emergency Room. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? At this point, I have trouble breathing myself and hold onto the counter for support. It is nine thirty at night, I am beyond reasonable thinking. I stand there trying to decided if I take the chance or not. I figure I might as well wrap this worst mother award up with a bow (start engraving my name on it now), so I take the amoxicillin. I also bought a huge bottle of Benedryl. I am nothing, if not prepared.

I just gave her the Amoxicillin. Now do I stand next to her bed monitoring her breathing all night long? How did this happen? Please someone take over driving this vehicle called my life, because I have obviously lost the ability to function competently.

How soon does anaphylactic shock start? If I watch her for four hours can I go to sleep? Will I ever sleep again? When I do sleep will I ever stop having nightmares about the hospital? How do you know when you are officially insane? Does the pharmacy have the ability to super size my Valium order, if I can persuade/threaten some doctor to write a prescription for me? What are the penalties for falsifying a prescription? What illness with Trent come down with tomorrow? When I have my anxiety attack, will I foam at the mouth, and if so will some one take a picture of it for my blog? Will I look fat in my straight jacket? Will someone also take a picture of that? Will it hurt when I pound my head against the padded wall of my room at the mental institution?

Tune in tomorrow to see if I still have three children in the morning.

And I was wrong, there is something worse than one sick kid........... Two sick kids.