Friday, December 7, 2007

I forgot to take pictures, but soon you will thank me for that.

The characters:
My Dad, aka "Gramps"

The scene:
transplant clinic office

The time:
Thursday, Noon

The story:
The three of us arrived at straight-up noon, a full half hour before the appointment. We had just had lunch in the hospital cafeteria, which wasn't bad at all. The waiting room at the clinic has recently been updated with some really cool toys that hang on the walls and do stuff. I'll have to get pictures of those sometime. Gramps and I were taking turns entertaining Alan with the toys on the wall that do stuff, while he looked and reached, all while sitting in his stroller.

I'm not sure whether it was my eyes or my nose that first alerted me to the problem. My best recollection is that it was simultaneous. Just as I spotted the tell-tale half circle of wetness coming up from Alan's waistband, my nose told me this was not going to be good. Upon a quick closer inspection, I find that the wetness is also spreading down one leg. Oh, dear.

Fortunately, I had packed an entire set of extra clothes. Unfortunately, they were in the van, in the parking garage, a full 7 minute walk away. Gramps sets out for the clothes, while I turn to do something with the child. I knew the bathroom across the hall had one of those plastic fold-down baby-changers, but

#1 - Cleanliness? ew
#2 - This is a big baby, with a big mess, who is unlikely to hold still for more than 10 seconds (on a good day)

The office is not fully staffed from their lunch break yet, and only one lady is behind the window. Her back is turned, so I start tap-tapping.
I am person very hesitant to interrupt or inconvenience anyone, so when she doesn't turn around, I assume I haven't been tapping loud enough and I pick it up some. Tap-tap. And then some more.
All the while, Alan is standing in his stroller, with me bent over him so he can chew my necklace. I"m not sure how we got to this little arrangement, but there's not much more I can do but to keep it up at this point. He isn't going to stay happy long, and I certainly can't hold him!

Office lady swivels in her chair to reach for a file and I see she is on the phone. Oops.
And then I hear her say Alan's name. At least I'm rudely interrupting a phone call about my own kid.

Finally a nurse's aid passes through and I'm able to ask her if I can use an exam room.
No problem. Excellent! I lay Alan down and begin stripping him.
That's all I'll say. Ew.

All my tap-tapping must have taken longer than I thought, because I am just finishing Alan's bottom half when Gramps reappears with the change of clothes. Just in time, because now I need to take the shirt off. Up, over the head, and.... EW. What was supposed to be in the diaper but was on the inside of the shirt is now smeared up to Alan's shoulder blades. Ew.

And this is one of the many reasons we were in an exam room and not a public restroom. All I had to do was turn to the really cool 12-18 inch deep sink and plop my naked, soiled baby down in it. Couldn't have been better. Well, actually, it would have been a lot better if I would have pre-heated the water. Most babies don't like cold baths. Mine turns out to be no exception. But some (cold) running water and a few squirts of anti-bacterial handsoap and Alan is a new man. With plenty of time to spare before our appointment. :) See? I told you you'd be glad there were no pictures. :)

And the writing of this little drama has just reminded me.... those clothes are still in a bag in the bottom of the stroller.


fairenuff said...

Oh the glamour of our lives, eh?! I have been through exactly the same thing WAAAAY too many times and we still have that scenario at least once a week after bedtime (which requires a full bed strip as well as clothing, mmmm lovely!).

TIP: Dont pull the shirt over Alan's back, roll it up very tightly as you go, it saves on how much gets spread around as it rolls into itself and you can get it over his head without leaving a trail up his hair too (see, I really have been there!).

Karen said...

Wow, I think you handled that with a lot more grace than I would have!

We had something similar happen in an airport one time. My husband was standing outside the women's restroom calling into me, trying to help while I attempted to change a squirmy, filthy baby on surface of questionable cleanliness that seemed only about 6 inches square. Good times.

Anonymous said...

Haha. What a tale!