Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Reasons to pee.

This afternoon I wound up in the emergency room with my three-and-a-half year old for two and something hours. It ended with us walking out, him with a purple popsicle and me appearing to have wet myself.

Why, oh why.

It was all the fault of cursed potty training. My son is still not trained, and we've had quite a time of it, trying to educate him on the miraculous ways of the toilet. And we've tried, I tell you. Oh, we've tried. There are blog posts to prove it: there was the time with the water bottle strapped to the stuffed rabbit, and the time with Elmo and the maddening "potty time" song, and still, nothing. Except a few more gray hairs on my head.

He was supposed to have been trained in time for preschool, but obviously that didn't happen. Thankfully he hasn't had any accidents there and so, with a little luck on our side, it's all been okay so far. And since then, we've tried, on and off, to make progress, with little success.

Until a few days ago, when he suddenly decided he was ready to use the potty. He unexpectedly announced "mummy, I peed in the potty!" as I was on the phone to my brother in England. I hung up, shrieked, hugged him, and brought out some treats to celebrate. We had one whole day without diapers. It was the beginning of the end.

Then this morning, assuming we were still on track, I got everything reading as usual - the potty, underwear, and reward treats.

But it wasn't to be. He sat on the potty, but he wouldn't pee. I implored him. I sat with him, read to him, passed him drinks and treats and books and toys. I put on a movie and pushed his potty in front of it.

Still, nothing.

By two in the afternoon, he still hadn't peed, and the diaper was back on. Suddenly he was curled up on his bed, telling me his tummy hurt. I started to panic. I told him, he really needed to pee, right now, that this was serious. I told him that if he didn't pee, we might have to take a trip to the hospital. But he wouldn't, or couldn't, I'm not sure. He clutched his stomach and writhed around on his bed yelling and crying. He told me it hurt to try.

I called my mother-in-law and asked her to come over to watch my younger son. By the time she arrived, M was crying hard and still unable to pee. I lifted him into the car and sped off to our local hospital.

I staggered into the emergency room with my sobbing three-year old in my arms (did I mention he is not small) and went straight up to the counter. The woman wasn't bothered by the loud sobbing or the steam rising from my ears, she simply raised a finger as if to indicate I should be patient. To which I said, loudly "Excuse me!".

"Please wait behind the line." She said.

"Um. What line?"

"That line." She said, pointing to half a line about ten feet behind me.

"You're being serious?" I said.

Because. You know. Screaming child. And, could be serious. Perhaps a burst appendix. Or a bladder infection. Or a bladder that's about to burst. But okay. I'll stand behind the line. Even though there's no one in front of me.

My chin was beginning to wobble and my eyes were welling up.

My back was aching under the weight of my forty-something pound son, and he wouldn't let me put him down.

The pointy-finger lady ushered me into a room, where my son's temperature was taken and some questions were asked, and we were put in a queue to fill in some paperwork, and then be put in another queue to see a doctor.

"We'd better call Daddy on that payphone over there." I said to M, noticing my phone battery was dead.

I picked up my blubbering boy and walked to the phone to call J.

As we returned to our seat in the waiting room, M whispered something in my ear.

"I'm sorry, honey, what was that?"

"I think I'm going to pee now, mummy." He said, eyeing the waiting room cautiously.

"GREAT!" I practically yelled."Pee away darling!"

And he did. Unfortunately his diaper wasn't sufficient to hold the three litres or so his bladder had been housing. I began to feel a warm patch on my legs.

"Uh-oh, time to go to the bathroom."

As I got up, I realized, my jeans were soaked. And not in a good place. But in a place that looked like, maybe, perhaps, I had peed myself.

"Okay, let's go." I said briskly, as only a mother could say.

As we walked to the bathroom, my son looked up and said, brightly "I feel much better now mummy!".

"That's wonderful, darling." I said, as everyone in the waiting room stared at my crotch.

A few completely pointless hours later, we left the hospital. M proudly slurped his popsicle and told me "I fixed myself!".

I drove home, feeling relieved and thankful that we were leaving the hospital with only a very minor concern.

On the way home, I told my son "please don't ever do that again, honey."

And then, there was wine.  

(I suspect soon all my posts will end with wine.)
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Lisa said...

I may have peed myself a little at your closing sentence! Ah, what would we do without wine? Don't emergency rooms piss you off? I know all about potty training hell and sometimes it seems "urine it" forever. Sorry. So many pee jokes, so little time. Glad your little (yet heavy) guy was ok. :)

Lady Mama said...

"Urine it" - Awesome! Haha.

Loukia said...

OH my gosh, this story. This story needs to go in a parenting book. Sigh. The worry our children make us feel! MY goodness, though, this made me laugh, too. And I feel your pain, for having to wait at the ER, when your child COULD HAVE been seriously sick! So wrong. Sigh. Glad everything is okay and thanks for the giggle!

Kate Coveny Hood said...

Oh that's awful! I've had a couple of things like that happen. In fact this sounds like it could have been lifted directly out of my life - wine included.

Metropolitan Mum said...

See, I promised - there'll always be wine. I recently shifted the wine hour forward from 7 to 6. Because it's winter time, of course. Erm.

ModernMom said...

Oh hon! Could you feel the steam rising from my ears when she told you to wait behind the line??
So glad everything is okay...these little people are terrifying! :)

ShannonL said...

Wow, I would have done exactly what you did! So glad it wasn't anything major and your son is fine! Cute story - thanks for sharing! Oh, and wine is awesome!

WhisperingWriter said...

Ack! I'm glad your son is okay.

I don't drink wine so I'd be eating tons of chocolate after that.

fiona2107 said...

I laughed all the way through this. Not at you but because we had a similar experience rushing to the ER with our son and a suspected ear infection that turned out to be plain old head lice.
Uh huh....we lined up and waited 3 hours with a miserable 2 yr old pulling at his hair and ears and screaming onlymto be told my son had nits.
Lovely eh!

Lady Mama said...

Fiona - oh no! That is terrible. And very funny. (after the fact) (sorry)

Lady Mama said...

Met Mum - I recently shifted wine hour from 5 to 4 :D

Heather said...

I may have taken the wine TO the ER with me.
Or maybe your son could have used the relaxing and healing powers of....ok. Bad idea. Sorry.

Mwa said...

I don't like pointy-finger lady.

Wine is good. I had quite a bit for lunch today (I love weddings).

I'm wishing you no more pee on your crotch and a fully potty-trained child. (Poor you!)

Tammy said...

Oh my I think I would have drank a whole bottle after this day... :( Hopefully this is the worst before it gets better!!

LisaDay said...

Ha, ha, ha. Oh the visual.

I have had to pee so badly it hurts. I have actually cried so I understand the feeling.

Glad to hear everything worked out well for your little guy any way.

I left you an award on my blog.


Elaine A. said...

Why didn't they put this kind of stuff in parenting books? Not that it would have kept us from having kids but a little waring would have been good, no? Glad he was fine... and hoping that he will learn the whole potty thing soon. I had troubles with my first so I totally understand!!