Couldn't you just get H1N1 like everyone else?

I'll interrupt my festive holiday posting to update you on why Zoey's birthday party has been canceled:

Last night, right around 2 a.m., Zoey shows up in our bed hotter than hell and telling me 'everything hurts!' No good. A little Motrin and a few hours later, she and I both drift off to sleep. Luckily, I was scheduled to have the day off, you know--TO GET READY FOR HER PARTY. And to help with my mother-in-law's surprise 60th birthday party, which Zoey and I should be attending...right about now.

So, I'm no dummy. It's taken me roughly nine months of living back in Puyallup to figure out that if I want Zoey to have an appointment with her pediatrician, and not the janitor who will charge me $100 to tell me she has nothing wrong with her, I had better get the office on speed dial at precisely 8 a.m. SHARP. I am quite sure I was the first phone call answered by the receptionist today. I explained what was wrong and was rewarded with a coveted spot on Dr. Grubb's schedule at 10:15.

Of course, at this point, Zoey is walking and talking like nothing much is wrong. In fact, she looks pretty darn smug that she's fenagled an extra day at home with Mommy, instead of going to daycare. I retreated to the shower to begin the debate in my head...do I take her in? Keep her home? Cancel the party? Load her up on Tylenol and have everyone come anyway? How in the name of God can someone charge you $100 when nothing is wrong with your child? Why did I choose the insurance plan with such a high deductible?

We kept the appointment, if for no other reason than I totally trust Dr. Grubb and if he told me she was completely fine, at least I would believe him. And I knew he would spend a good 15 to 20 minutes in the room with us before charging us an arm and a leg and sending us on our way.

Now, the thing is, at 2:00 this morning, I could have sworn my child had the flu. Or was well on her way to getting the flu. With no H1N1 shot on board, I thought 'well, this is what you get for not standing in line all day with the rest of Pierce County and your anxious two-year-old to maybe-possibly-if-we-have-enough-but-we'll-probably-run-out get a vaccine that is in such high demand. I was totally willing to accept that, and the five to seven days of confinement it would take to get her back on the mend. Lord knows enough of my friends and my friend's children have had the freaking flu bug this year for me to know what to expect.

Which is why, when Dr. Grubb pointed out how abnormally huge and horrible looking her left tonsil was, it kind of threw me for a loop.

Seriously? Tonsilitis?

The weird thing (I guess, me not knowing much about tonsils) is that when only one tonsil becomes really large (like, large to the point of wondering how in the world she's gone on swallowing all this time), it is at an increased risk of developing an abscess behind it. I was sent home with the following instructions:

1. Keep Zoey home, resting, and hydrated
2. Monitor for signs of trouble swallowing
3. Call Dr. Grubb right away (as in, ON HIS CELL PHONE OVER THE WEEKEND) if she starts to drool, spikes a high fever, or complains of painful swallowing

I have never been given a pediatrician's personal cell phone number before. It was the most alarming part of the entire visit. That, and his parting comment. "I'm sure we'll be chatting again this weekend."

Great.

So there you have it. No surprise party for Grandma tonight. No birthday party tomorrow. Only a new Curious George DVD as a consolation prize. And the knowledge that you won't be seeing your mother wear anything but pajama pants and ratty sweatshirts alllllll weekend.

I am planning to reschedule her party for sometime in June.