Thursday, 26 February 2015

Doctor! Doctor!

I have totally jinxed myself!

Just as a quick re-cap I recently blogged about my way-too-often-broken babies a week or two ago, and that was the first visit to a doctor or hospital for ages.

And now we are back to semi-normal.

Last weekend the Pixie was trodden on by a horse. Just in case anyone is worried, the horse is fine. So is Pixie. The girls have grown up around their grandfather's trotting horses so, to be honest, I am surprised that they have not been trodden on before.

In the stables.

The sad bit is that my first thought at the doctors' surgery was "Wow! We haven't been here for ages", followed by "fond" memories of the hours of study I did in those chairs when we were going through a particularly bad run.

I also thought about how lucky we have been with some of the random medical professionals we have met who could have been hand-picked for our needs:

  • A doctor who had a son who had randomly chosen to be vegetarian at the same age Pixie did when we went to get her iron checked;
  • A physio who had trained in ballet at the WA Academy of Performing Arts when Buglet hurt her ankle; and
  • A nurse who had fractured her tailbone falling off slide when Buglet was in hospital for her knee, but was having problems sitting due to previous injuries.

This week's effort was a doctor who's daughter sets the high school exams for ballet. He totally got why I wanted an all clear before letting Pixie go back to pointe class. 

Sometimes you just meet the right people at the right time.

However, I should not have spoken too soon! Tuesday night I got a phone call to get Buglet from dancing as she had hurt her foot ... back to the hospital. 

Pixie is particularly unhelpful when she is trying to be helpful sometimes. Her very supportive comments included:

(Brightly) At least you didn't damage a perfectly good ankle.

(Confused) Are we taking her* too? (Ah yes! Considering *Buglet was the reason I was there, and the reason we were leaving early).

(Helpfully) Would you like me to stroke her? Mama! I can't reach her! Sorry, Buglet I can't stroke you. Buglet was crying at this point, and some of her words included strong indications that being stroked by the Pixie would be particularly unhelpful.

Fortunately it was just a bad sprain, and Buglet will be ok, and Pixie was right about one thing, it is a good thing that it was already damaged foot. 

  • It is doubtful I am qualified to give parenting advice, there is still time for me to stuff up.
  • I should clearly not be allowed to give safety advice.
  • I am most definitely not allowed to give medical advice*.
  • I am not even allowed to give legal advice without supervision.
I would recommend finding more reliable sources for any advice of any nature.

*I do sometimes prescribe chocolate though. Accept this advice at your own risk.

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