Claudius is a treasure! (knock on wood)
He sleeps well, he doesn’t fuss, he likes the car (good darn thing), he can entertain himself and he eats pretty well, too.
In spite of all of his sweetness and light and the fact that Simeon was doing better yesterday, we still had a boat load of stress.
I got a call that Claudius has a medical condition that requires twice daily treatment, but in mom’s crazy state, she didn’t bother sending this life saving medicine and equipment. Because of insurance issues, last name confusion (his, I know mine), and nurses who read standard statements instead of use their brains, I spent hours on the phone trying to figure out how to get the kid the meds he needs.
They said I had to take him to the ER even though he wasn’t presenting any symptoms of his condition. No one wouldn’t give me any more information since mom never signed off on that. Ummm… that’s not going to happen. I explained to the nurses seventeen times who I was and why I wasn’t on the paperwork. I also called my contact at children’s services and she called them to give me clearance. Still… nothing. Nurse snarky pants was supper rude until I finally said “Well, then! Can you please tell me what I should tell the ER when I arrive with an infant with a runny nose?! Should I trust that they will diagnose him correctly?? Why would they give me a prescription if they don’t know there’s something wrong with him??!!”
Suddenly nurse snarky pants turned super nice and read me his entire chart. Seriously.
So we waited and waited and waited at urgent care. When we finally got to see the doctor, he spent about 3.4 seconds looking at the kid and asking me questions I clearly could not answer (hello!!!! foster parent, less than 24 hours!!!!). Then he wrote the scrip and sent us on our merry way!
*sigh* Through the whole event, Claudius was a cheerful trooper.
Then we got home to give him his treatment. For a child getting this twice a day every day, his screams and fits indicate that he isn’t use to the process. So for the next couple of days, twice a day, we’ll be holding poor boy in a full body hug and try to get him back on track.
Speaking of which… I got to go. Duty calls.