I’ve been looking forward to this weekend – so have my kids. Twice a year the Richmond Coliseum hosts Disney on Ice, and hubby is the ice tech and Zamboni driver, so we always get tickets. His boss usually sets him up with a hotel room for the weekend so he can be on call 24/7 – we live an hour away, so that makes good sense.

The kids and I love it because we come out to see the show and then stay in a swank downtown Richmond hotel for the night. They swim, check out the fitness room, and get to eat a few meals out. Plus there’s all the cute little soaps and shampoos to take home! It’s like a mini weekend getaway for us.

Earlier this week my 10 year old developed a pimply sore on her leg. I figured it would just go away, but by Thursday it was red and swollen – so much so that there was an inflamed patch about the size of a pancake on her leg. It was hard for her to walk, so I decided to take her to the doctor. Turns out it was an abscess of some sort, and needed to be drained.

Ruh roh.

I won’t go into details, but it was an hour I didn’t want to have to ever relive. My poor daughter was near screaming, but tried to keep her 10 year old shit together as best she could while the doctor squeezed her very sore boo-boo. Doc then drew a Sharpie line around the inflamed area and told us that if the redness spreads significantly over the marker line, we should come back in.

Afterward I promised her the dinner of her choice and took her to Walmart to pick out a toy while her prescription was getting filled. She spent the night eating pizza and building her Lego firetruck.

The next morning her leg looked ok, but it hadn’t drained as much as I would’ve liked. It was still sore, but off to school she went. I was way behind at work after having missed most of the day before. Around 10 am the school nurse calls.

Ruh roh.

The redness is going past the Sharpie marker line. I explain the situation to the nurse and asked her to make an assessment – was it significantly over the line or just a little? After putting me on hold for at least 4 minutes, she said it was about an inch over the line. Crap. Time to call the doctor again. Nurse at doctors office agrees we should see her under the “better safe than sorry” adage – appointment is made for 2:40 that afternoon.

At 1 pm my phone rings – school nurse again. Now my girl has a fever of 102. I start to mildly panic, and head to my car. After picking her up I can feel that she is hot as a brick oven. Yet by the time we get her to the doctor’s office, the fever is gone.

This perplexes the doctor. But just to be cautious, she decides it’s best to make a bigger incision in her leg and try to drain it some more – and my daughter’s face drains of blood simultaneously. Didn’t I just say I didn’t want to relive this?

Yes, my poor little girl had to endure more cutting and squeezing. To add insult to injury, doctor says she need to have an shot of antibiotic, which turns my weeping, pale faced daughter into a crazed lunatic. I calm her down while the shot was being prepared, practically promising her a key to Disney World and a string of cream colored ponies.

And in walks not one but TWO nurses, each with a needle in hand. Apparently, she needs a shot in each thigh. I only wished I could have traded places with her. I held her hand and her head while they jabbed the needles into her cute little meaty thighs, and she screamed out, hot tears running into her hair.

Two days in a row of cutting and crying and soothing and calming. We were both exhausted. But when you’re a mommy you still have to shop and cook and clean – there is no flopping on the couch once you reach home. At least not until around 8 pm with a giant glass of Chablis.

But now our weekend will hopefully turn out well – It’s early Saturday morning and I’m about to wake up my girls, clean the house, feed the cats and head out for a little Richmond R & R.

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