I dread going to the small hospital we have in our town, even though wait times are half what they are generally in the larger, more densely populated cities, I knew it was going to be a very late night.

Things were actually quiet when we pulled in – very few cars in the parking lot – a great sign!

We ended up waiting 2 hours in the waiting room, which, all things considered, was not too bad at all. I snagged a comfy rocking chair and Wee One was so exhausted she finally fell asleep in my arms. When we were called in, we spent another hour waiting, but Wee One at least had a bed to snooze on. (forgive the lousy images, my phone takes sucky pictures)

…and I found something to read.

Wonder how many sick people have touched that over the past 27 years?

I should explain that spending time in a hospital with Wee One is a major thing. When she was a year old exactly (we spent her birthday night in the hospital) she developed a raging UTI and of course, since it was late at night, we had no option but to head to the hospital. Over the course of 2 hours, three different nurses, including a ham-handed male nurse, tried to insert a catheter into my sick wee girl, and she had to be physically restrained. She was so little she had no idea what they were trying to do to her. I finally couldn’t take it any more and made them stop. She was hysterical, and they kept wanting to poke at her. It was beyond horrible. From that day on, my sweet baby girl has never been the same. Even me changing her diaper was a recurring trauma for the next few months before she was potty trained. We’ve dealt with extreme shyness issues, and seeing any sort of medical equipment or doctor sends her into shaking hysteria. I’ve been working with her for a long time to get her to overcome this abject fear, and she has made huge improvements. She’s still very shy, but not paralyzed by it, and because I’ve made a point of taking her with me to our wonderful female doctor every time I go in for anything, to get her used to the fact that doctors are there to help, and they are good people, she has slowly begun to relax about that. This in mind, her asking me to take her to the doctor – any doctor – last night meant she was in real pain.

The lone doctor in our small hospital emerg department finally wandered in around 3am, and was able to examine Wee One without her even waking up (YAY!) We left with a prescription shortly after. I was so thankful she was able to sleep through it, and won’t have yet another memory of being examined in her nether regions in a hospital.

Wee One will be fine – she has her first female malady, very common in little girls, which is easily cured with some TLC and a topical cream.