Wednesday, January 9, 2008

I'm Gonna Die, I'm Gonna Throw Up, Then Gonna DIE!

Holy Crap! Yesterday was a fun fest full of freakin' folly! (Say that five times fast!) We had Morgan's gastrointestinal doctor appointment yesterday and due to it being soooooooooo far away we took advantage of the offer to use the community transport instead of spending our own gas to get there. (It was almost $3.50 a gallon in Plantation!) We go around front of the building to see if the transport is there, and see a man who has to be in his 70's smoking next to this little van. The community coach symbol is on the side of the van, so we walk up and introduce ourselves. He seems jovial enough, but does not introduce himself or give us his name, leading Morgan and I to name him "Willard" for the rest of the trip. We get in and off we go.

About 3 minutes into the trip, Willard turns around and asks, "Do you know how to get to your doctors office?" Now, this man has TWO GPS navigation systems attached to the dashboard, why the hell is he asking me how to get there? I tell him yes I do as long as we go from I-95 since it is the simplest route. Willard promptly tells me that he does not use I-95 and will not be traveling it. "Then why the hell did you ask me?", I thought. We then learn that We are sharing our ride with another person and we have to go to Indiantown to pick up the mother and child.

We arrive at the address in Indiantown, (after much bickering between the two GPS systems), and there is a small woman waiting in front of a small house. Willard gets out and discovers she speaks NO English! This distresses him to no end because he cannot ask her where her appointment is. I get out of the van to pull up my seat so she and her son can get in the back, and she sits in my seat and begins to get comfy. No. No,no,no,no. Now I have to reveal that I speak some Spanish, and Willard jumps on the opportunity. He starts asking me to ask her a zillion questions, and my Spanish is rusty to say the least. I get out "do you know where your doctor's office is", and "that's my seat" and come to discover that this woman doesn't even know where she is going, just that she is seeing a specialist for her son. How can you not know where you are going?? Luckily the driver, Willard, has a paper with the doctor's name and address on it and he programs the GPS's to get there. After a stop at the local BK Lounge to use the restrooms, we are off. Then the fun starts...

Most immigrants do not think much of our obsession with car seats. It just isn't something they do since most people from south America do not own vehicles in their native countries. Not saying it to be mean, but if you live in the sticks with no roads, a horse is better than a station wagon. Now here in the good ole' U.S. of A., we like our kids to be safe and secure so we insist on car seats, and Willard was of this safety ilk. The woman puts her son in the car seat and he spends the next hour and a half screaming and crying and throwing things at my daughter and I. You could tell he hadn't ridden in a car seat very often, and he just did not want to do it. We found that doctors office fast! Then when we got there, I was trying to tell the woman that her doctor was on the 5th floor and what his name was, but she wasn't getting it. (My Spanish isn't THAT bad!) Then, Willard asked me to tell her that we would be back at 3:00pm for her. She walked off and started to ask a cleaning lady stuff in Spanish. Guess my Spanish IS that bad.

We get back in the car and go off to Morgan's appointment. The GPS makes Willard get on I-95, and Morgan and I share a chuckle. Then the darn thing begins to give directions opposite of what we need. I get Willard's attention and point out the hospital we need to go to is in the opposite direction. Lucky I did know where to go! We get over towards the hospital and stop for a bite to eat. There was a Boston Market there and I breathed a sigh of relief to be out of the van for a moment. Also that I could get my daughter some lunch that did not contain gluten. We eat, I update HHH on the situation and what we are enduring by phone, and we go back to the van. Willard drives us over to the hospital and says he'll be back at around 2:15.

The appointment went well. Morgan has increased in height and weight! I was relieved. We are still learning about all the things that contain gluten and additives that have gluten in it, so we may not have eliminated everything, but we have cut out alot! We get an appointment for 6 months from now and are off on our merry way. I call Willards cell and tell him we are waiting out front. After about 10 minutes, he arrives and we get back in for the ride home.

After about 20 minutes, we get back to the first office where we dropped off the woman and her son. They are waiting outside the front door and Willard remarks that he hopes she got to where she was going. He is paid to drop people off, not escort them to the appointment! (he didn't like latino people apparently) She and her son get in and she straps the boy into the dreaded car seat again. Here we go. The kid starts screaming at the top of his lungs and throwing things again! Jeeze! Then, blessedly, after about 10 minutes, he nods off to sleep. The rest of the ride home was quiet. We drop them off then finally get home to our house. We left at 9am and got home at 5pm. I was tired and sore and just wanted to go to bed. HHH had dinner ready and afterwards I took a hot shower and lay in bed watching TV for the rest of the night! Thank God I don't have to do that again for 6 months!!


Barlow Putz said...

oh me oh my, please come to my bog if you want to talk, i am the guy that made four comments on the dad who mock the world, and i am quite witty if you desire that

pinktomato said...

god bless you and the torment you had to go thru. (...note to self - another reminder of why we left florida...)