Rightie! So about a week ago I became very concerned (try "freaked") over Floppy's apparent inability to hear properly. She couldn't understand me at a distance, never paid attention to whispers or soft voices, and continually asked me to repeat myself, while straining forward. Yikes. So I looked into getting an appointment at the public facilities--alas, the place was tarnationally far, necessitated an exceptionally early rise in the cold gloomy pre-spring weather, with the baby and Floppy, via bus. No thank you! So the only other option was a private clinic. I called around, and after recovering emotionally from the costs (25 US per visit), we scheduled an appointment. The day of the appointment, Daddy was sick, and so I had to reschedule. Mind you, the nutsy secretary made me call again 4 times to reschedule; each time she made me hold the line while shouting merrily at [somebody else]... Once she hung up on me; I hope it was accidental. I wasn't impressed. Floppy, at first, was not too keen on the idea of visiting a doctor. (I wonder who she takes after, hmm??) So we prepared beforehand; we studied about the workings of the middle and inner ears, and examined diagrams of the interior of the head cavity. I drew her a scary picture of an ugly, bumbling old doctor with a wicked-looking piece of ear-cleaning machinery in his hand, and by gum, she just loved it, and from thenceforth was eager to go to the doc. I also promised her a snack in a restaurant after the visit, if she behaved well. She got to where she could hardly wait!
Well, after much ado, we woke up this morning to a rainy gloomy haze, alas, forcing us to have to call a cabbie to arrive at our appointment. With my chique hat at a jaunty angle, the baby in a harness, and Floppy in her awesome skull-and-bones pink suit and peruvian snow hat, we crashed and smashed our way into the cab. The cabbie was a lovely dear old man (he prayed with us to receive Jesus in his heart!!! Another friend to meet in Heaven!) in a sleek and lovely car. Floppy wondered aloud why 'the taxi isn't yellow'...
We arrived at the place in time, only to find a looooong line of people ahead of us. For some strange reason (even though the appointments were supposed to be according to the order of arrival) four people who showed up after us got to see the doctor before we did. Maybe the nutsy secretary just loved the sight of the two beautiful little girls .... We did, however, manage to take in the 3,547 diplomas on the wall, ascertaining that at least this doctor was probably the best in his field for miles around...
And when the doc finally deigned to review us, he took a short look with a little light into Floppy's ears, declared that she's got a nasty buildup of wax in both ears, and prescribed some little drops for her ears. Then he said "Come back on Tuesday and I'll clean her ears..." I was fuming inwardly at the expense (I mean, if this doc gets $25 US per 5 minutes of his time...) of getting a guy to look inside two little ears, but I guess it's worth it to make sure the little ones are safe and healthy, amen? Then the doc graciously offered to check the baby's ears too, for no extra cost. Hallelujah, the little one's ears are in fine condition, despite nasty cold of the last two weeks. The doc was a sweet person, very conscientious of Floppy's shyness, age, etc.
Okay, so out we bounced, and off to find a cozy lil' restaurant where I could nurse the munchie-munchie and get Floppy a treat. We finally settled on what looked (from the outside) like a smart modern snack bar with a real charming usher in front; it turned out to be a huge cinema/restaurant, with two or three enormous screens DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF OUR TABLE (meaning that Floppy spent the next 1 1/2 hours staring at the inane TV while munching lazily on her gigantic piece of pizza.)
A sharp waiter, age maybe around 15 or 16, with a cuuute little fresh-face and a big happy smile that reminded me of my little brother Joshua age 10, ushered us genially to a seat and took our order. I tell you, if he goes on in the business, in 10 years he'll be eligible for "best waiter in town" Academy Award. Seriously, I was charmed by his service. I paid the bill and tip in advance, and he came back all worried, "Ma'am, you gave me too much money." Apparently the boy wasn't used to getting tipped (?) I was rewarded with another beautiful smile when I informed him the extra was for him to keep. Tipping is so much fun...
So is watching your three-year-old daughter eat a gigantic slice of pizza with all the gusto and good manners of a little princess, sniff. Such a fine upbringing... After about an hour, however, I started getting bored, and so amused myself by stealing bites of her pizza and swigs of her peach shake, much to her delight. Ha ha! So much for the sunny weather report, at 2 p.m. it was still drizzling, and I didn't have enough money for a cab home, so we just took a bus. Now the wonderful thing about Argentina is traveling with a baby: people will fight to give you their seat. We sang duets all the way home, and arrived without mishap. Hip hip hurrah for an eventful exciting day. Now to clean my room... ta-ta, y'all!
My kids are also wax factories, and after several trips to the doctor to have them unplugged I found a simple trick...if it isn't too late and hard like a rock wax ..
ReplyDeleteDrip a little drop of olive oil in the ears twice a day, do it for a week to ten days, then give the child a hot bath and let them play, and play in there for a while...if you are lucky the wax will just run out....
I figure it out after the doctor looked at Roland and suggested oil drops for a week and then he only poured water from a jug into his ear to remove the plug.