I don't know why, but Hillary has taken to calling me "Poppy." She had plenty of opportunity to use that nickname today because we spent the entire day together, just she and I. I took Hillary to her 9:00 A.M. doctor appointment because Susan wasn't feeling tip-top. The appointment was with Dr. Lapp, who removed Abigail's tonsils last August. This time he recommended tubes for Hillary's ears to get rid of the fluid build-up that has reduced her hearing over the past several months. That surgery--a ten- to fifteen-minute same-day procedure--will happen in the morning next Thursday, April 20. It was fun to watch Hillary exercise her independence and confidence maneuvering around the four-story clinic and the many offices to which we were directed to report. She's unfazed by the prospect of surgery and enjoyed the smiles and attention from all the nurses and employees in each office. Pretty cute.
After that appointment we went to Target to buy some supplies. I tried on some shorts and a T-shirt, and she was so sweet helping me select something that would look good, and commenting on the fit of each garment, and offering to carry things for me. We bought a bottle of water in the check-out lane, and she had fun sharing that with me in the Explorer afterward. I love those little things--like sharing a bottle of water--that little kids still enjoy doing and think are fun just because they get to do it with Dad (or Poppy, as the case may be).
She was a very patient trooper after that when we waited an hour-and-a-half at Hansen Ford for some work to be done to the Explorer. We had only the bottle of water and out-of-date home-and-garden magazines in the sterile waiting room to keep us entertained, and she was very well behaved. Afterward we went to the Ground Round and had dinner. We had to control ourselves with the complimentary basket of popcorn that precedes a Ground Round meal. We shared a Buffalo chicken salad, and I was amazed at how much of it she ate. I could never consume the entire thing myself and, in fact, had a hard time finishing half of the monster. Hillary, however, ate nearly as much as I did! The server was shocked that a nearly-five-year-old would enjoy the spicy, spicy Buffalo chicken with, of all things, blue cheese dressing (gasp!). Sadly, so many little kids these days are such fussy eaters with such limited palates that I'm not surprised anymore when adults comment on what our children are willing to each (which is, basically, anything). I do enjoy that they're adventurous eaters, polite enough to try anything and experienced enough to enjoy a variety of flavors and foods.
Then we went to the Columbia Mall where Hillary helped me shop for instrumental piano music for my sister-in-law Cassie's upcoming wedding (for which I'm playing). Hillary took me into Bath & Body Works to smell the samples of perfumed lotions. We stopped by the pet store to look at the puppies, kitties, and fishies. We made a couple trips to the restrooms, whose remodeled "family" bathrooms have little kid-sized toilets that Hillary finds fascinating. We left in time to get to her 3:00 P.M. pre-op appointment with Dr. Funk (our family doctor, Dr. Gomez, is out of town). He let us know that she had to have lab work done as a prerequisite for receiving anesthesia for surgery next week.
On the walk from Dr. Funk's side of the clinic to the lab side, I asked her to recall coming to PRACS with me to watch me get my blood drawn. As we sat and waited, I had her practice putting "the rubber band" on my arm and drawing my blood, and she pretended to put a Band-Aid on me afterward. When it was time for her to get her own blood drawn, the nurses were so kind; I could tell they had a good demeanor for, and experience with, working with kids. They had me sit in the chair with Hillary in my lap, and I helped to support her arm. The nurse showed her the tiny needle that she would use, put the tourniquet on Hillary's arm, warned her that she would feel a mosquito bite, and directed her to look away. Both nurses were astounded that Hillary said only a low-voiced "ow" when they stuck her with the needle. Then she turned and watched the rest of the draw without a tear or a fuss--she was just sincerely interested in seeing how it was being done. They said they have never drawn a four-year-old who didn't cry. Hillary was a trooper!
Ironically, what did draw tears was the one unpainful part of the lab work: the urine specimen. When I forewarned Hillary that they would need some of her potty, she scrunched up her face with a look that said, "That's so gross!" She really didn't see the point, and she was a bit offended that they would be so intrusive about something as personal as her excretions. The nurse put a pan inside the toilet to capture the urine and left the covered bottle with me to pour the urine into. She also gave me a swab to clean Hillary's "bottom" (the nurse's choice of technical medical terminology, not mine; Hillary knows it as her "vulva"). The nurse left, and Hillary backed into the corner and wrapped her arms around herself. She didn't want to lower her skirt or be wiped or sit down or potty into the pan. I had had a bad feeling about this beforehand, anyway, because of her two trips to the restroom in the mall. Now, Abigail can pee at the drop of a hat, but could Hillary squeeze anything out just minutes after leaving the mall's mini-toilets?
I tried running water in the sink as inspirational background noise, distracting Hillary with non-urine-related topics of conversation, and coaching her with "You can do it!" and "Just be patient; it'll come!" Eventually, her face perked up, and she announced that she had produced the goods. It wasn't a generous amount, to be sure, and I worried that it wouldn't be enough for the lab technicians to use. However, it passed inspection, and we were on our way. It was very fun to have a Daddy/daughter day with Hillary, to hear her thoughts and her unique way of expressing them, and to be seen with her about town (vanity, thy name is fatherhood). And I think Hillary enjoyed her day with Poppy, too!
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