AuburnChick's Adventures

Yesterday Chicky went to the pediatrician for a well-visit.  For the last four years, I’ve scheduled her visits to coincide with the beginning of soccer season, when she needs a physical before being allowed to play.

What was significant about this year’s appointment was that it was her last “official” well-visit at the pediatrician.

The doctor stops seeing patients when they turn 18, and Chicky’s birthday is in January.

As we sat in the office waiting to be seen, I allowed my mind to take a trip down memory lane.

I remembered the many, many visits I’ve made throughout the years.  Well check-ups to chart her growth, which wasn’t fast, by any means.  She’s such a petite thing.

During one of the earliest well-visits, Chicky was sound asleep in my arms, and the doctor instructed me not to move her.  She did the entire examination with Chicky in my arms.

I recall the visit when she was only a few months old, and the doctor thought he detected an abnormality with one of her hips.

We went straight for an x-ray.  Imagine trying to hold down a six or seven month-old.  Especially Chicky, who was walking by then…ever the active child.

The x-rays revealed that nothing was wrong with her.  She was developing normally.  We praised the Lord.

Immunizations were always bad days.  Can you say Motrin?

Then, there were those emergency visits.  Especially memorable was the day that Chicky’s grandmother (Coupon Queen) called.  Chicky had been sick, and I had to work, so she was babysitting.  She called me and instructed me to come get Chicky immediately and take her straight to the doctor.  Chicky’s illness had progressed to the point where she was dangerously close to dehydration.

When the Mr. was a baby, he had nearly died due to dehydration, so Coupon Queen was extremely afraid for Chicky.

Sure enough, Chicky had the Rotovirus…a nasty intestinal bug that kept her in the hospital for several days.  I remember the steel crib she had to sleep in.  I stayed in her room, never leaving her side, urging her to nurse and praying that she would pee (a sign that her body was hydrated fully).

We’ve moved several times during Chicky’s childhood, so she’s been under the care of different doctors.  Every one of them holds a special place in my heart as all were gentle, empathetic, and knowledgeable.

Well, except for the one doctor who tried to tell the Mr. that Chicky had asthma.  That was the only time the Mr. has ever taken either one of our children to the doctor, and I had just started a new part-time job and couldn’t take her.  Chicky suffered from pediatric croup well into her middle school years.  We had just moved to our current home and had recently selected a new pediatrician.

The Mr. came home with an inhaler and some other breathing apparatus.

I shook my head, told him she did not have asthma, and sent him back to that office two weeks later to tell the doctor.  Chicky had already been to an allergist who had ruled out this disorder.

We changed physicians after that, and I reprised my role as unofficial family physician (with the real doctor as the “expert”).

I was brought out of my reverie when the nurse called us back.

Height and weight were taken.  Chicky grew 1/4″, maybe (she’d like to think so, even though we know girls stop growing by the time they’re her age).  For fun, I had the nurse measure my height.  I’m 1/4″ taller than Chicky, and that was with my hair pulled back into a braid (hence no “big” hair to elevate my height).  I did the happy dance as Chicky grimaced.

I bemoaned, aloud, the fact that this was Chicky’s last well-visit, and the nurse commiserated with me.  She said that it’s difficult for them to let their patients go.  Hmmm…I never thought of it from her point of view.

The doctor came in, asked lots of questions, answered mine, and sent us away with the promise that we could take Chicky to his office all the way through the time she leaves for college next August.  Yay!

So, it’s another milestone…another sign that Chicky is that much closer to being on her own.

I’m both excited and a wee bit sad.

Filed under: children | Tagged: teenagers |