Tag Archives: clinic

Half-Time

Beauty in the day: he got a little scrape, and needed a bandaid. I pulled out the Bactine, and gave a little spray. Then I got some nice, soft, gauze to clean it. I started to clean.
“But go slowly,” he said.
I cleaned it kind of fast, and looked to see if he was handling it okay, and said, “I should just go fast so it will hurt less.”
“Okay, go fast, but go SLOWLY.”
I slowed down, and cleaned carefully.
“But of course, my friends are all waiting for me,” he mused.
I cocked an eyebrow and looked at him.
“Should I go fast, or should I go slow?”
He peered up at me, and then said, with authority, “You should go fast. But SLOWLY.”

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Working Girls

Beauty in the day: it was another clinic visit for cutie-patootie, who has had a running tab in “I don’t feel good” days. The nurse thought to distract her with an offer of a few pretzels, which she accepted gratefully. As the nurse set about the (apparently) arduous task of laying out a pretzel snack, Little Miss asked her, “I’m not making you work too hard, am I?”
Now, I heard all of you “Awwww” collectively, but a short while later, I offered to give her mom a call, and as I (apparently) arduously dialed the number, she thanked me and asked sweetly, “I’m not making you work too hard, am I?”
We knew we’d been had.

Pinkabella

Beauty in the day: she came in near the end of the day, Miss I-Have-Been-Here-All-Day-And-Am-Just-Now-Coming-Down-With-“Something”. I took her temperature. Nope. We did the usual – lay down for a bit – try going to the bathroom – have a drink of water.
“Well school is out in 25 minutes, so perhaps you should just go back to class and get ready.”
She thought not. “I really think I should just stay here in the clinic until school is out.”
Fine. Boring, but okay.
She came out of the clinic. “How many more minutes until school is out?”
“20 more minutes.” She went back in.
She tiptoed out again. “How many more minutes now?”
“17.” She retreated.
But then emerged again. “How many more minutes?”
“8 more.” She sighed. And returned.
Now she came out with a determined look. “How many more minutes?”
I looked. “4,” I told her. She maintained a serious, level gaze. And went back again. I didn’t see her after the bell rang – except for the pink blur.

Jonesing for a DeLorean

Beauty in the day: Boing-Boing Curls came into the clinic at her daily “scheduled” time. Her complaint was identical to the previous 7 or 8 afternoons, and I made my best attempt to get to the root of it all.
“What are you doing in class right now, Sweetie?”

“Nothing.”

“Well, I’m sure you’re doing SOMETHING. What are the kids all doing in class?”

“Nothing. We are sitting on the floor, and doing nothing.”

“Hmmm. So, I don’t think it’s NOTHING that you are doing. You must be doing SOMETHING. What are you guys doing when you’re sitting in the floor?”

“Watching the future pass by.”

Well – I asked. 😉