Tuesday, 28 August 2012
52 weeks of grateful :: 24 hour clinic
He had a rough weekend. Not that you can tell here. Two lots of antibiotics and nurofen will do that to you. The weekend saw us making two evening trips to the 24 hour clinic. Friday night for croup, Sunday night for an ear infection. He's probably been the healthiest of the three, this winter. Well, Winter, you really made up for that. You bastard.
Despite the bastardness the remnants of winter left for us, we were able to obtain medical assistance quickly and easily. We live a short drive from a 24 hour clinic that I have frequented a good handful of times in the wee hours with the smalls, seeking diagnosis - and drugs - to try and ease their ailments. Sure, I have never seen the same doctor twice, and I am not as comfortable taking their advice as opposed to our regular, trusted GP, but in the middle of the night when you have a screaming, inconsolable child in your arms, I am forever grateful for the all-night-working doctors, their comfortable seating, multiple plasma screens to keep tired mamas awake, and of course their all night pharmacy.
Last night I came home with my boy sound asleep. Filled with panadol and nurofen. One alone was not enough to stop the pain. He laid on my lap while I put the antibiotic drops in his sore ear, and there he slept while, coincidentally, I watched how lucky we are to have access to health care the way that we do. Grateful I am not American. Grateful I live in this lucky country. Grateful my boy was no longer in pain.
Linking up with more gratefuls for Kidspot Village Voices