We took Braden to the doctor Monday. The place more closely resembled a circus or maybe even a family reunion for all the mountain dwellers in the county. After an hour and a half with all the sick hillbillies we had to reschedule for Tuesday and leave.
Tuesday was more of the same. The parking lot was full. There was standing room only in the waiting room. There is nothing quite like standing and waiting. There have been a large number of documented cases of H1N1 in our town so clearly every kid with a runny nose was in the doctor's office. There is notching like spending an hour with every diseased kid in a 30 mile radius.
Braden finally got in to see the doctor. It turns out he has allergies. I don't know how that feels because I don't have problems with ragweed and other airborne allergens. Arica does, and it looks like she passed it on to Braden. The telltale sign according to our pediatrician is the "allergic black eye." I love that term and have used it repeatedly. It's not every day that I get to learn a new term, much less a medical term that sounds like pure silliness. That was a good find.
The good news is Braden has no fever. He has no pig virus. He is disease free. The bad news is that every year for the rest of his life he will have allergy problems. Right now Arica spends plenty of time with the nose plunger sucking snot from the far reaches of his brain.
I guess the even further reaching good news is that one day he will learn to blow his own nose.