Minor Emergencies

>Dear Readers, I just found this half-finished post from last week. Apparently all my days off have turned my brain to mush. This is un-edited, so you can see the way my brain works.

ANNDDDD, this is where I stop. I actually can’t remember what was “boring”, even though I apparently did “lots” of it. It might have been the Bailey’s. I dunno. It must not have been worth writing about. Anyhoo, by the end of the week we had 2 full snow days, and one 2-hr delay that turned into another canceled school day when they hopped in the buses at 0700 and realized that none of them would start. 3 days of 0 or near 0 temps was just too much for our little buses that couldn’t. Then a planned 2 day trip for Mon and Tues and I’m looking back on a full week without working.

I just looked at the weather report and we’re expecting more snow tonight… do I dare hope?

>I had a first grader come in with a little sore in her R ear. Of course, she’s digging around in there making it bleed. The first thing I said, “Seriously? You’re picking at it, of COURSE it’s bleeding!” went in one ear and out the other… figuratively speaking (as her finger was blocking the way). She pulls her finger out and then immediately puts it back in. This goes on for a few rounds. It’s like there’s a rare earth magnet in her head instead of a brain.

Me: Really. Do you see what you’re doing right now? You just stuck your finger right back in your ear!! What did I JUST say??
Peanut: I have a sore in my ear. Right here. You see? It’s bleeding… right…. HERE [sticks finger back in ear]!
Me: [I’m pretty sure she’s not doing this just to push me over the edge] Go wash your hands. I’m putting a bandaid in there just so you won’t touch.

[she’s watching me open the bandaid]

Peanut: …. You’re funny.
Me: [trying not to be funny] You think it’s funny when I’m mad and bossy?
Peanut: … well…. It’s only because you don’t really mean it.

Well folks, I’ve been found out. Or more likely, she’s the reason I get about 800 visits a day from her classroom. I think she’s ratting me out to her buddies. Maybe I need to get a little, oh, I dunno. Meaner? Madder? Bossier? Sneakier? I could move my office into the storage closet and force the teachers to bring the kids blindfolded. Too much?

>One of the new 2nd graders came to see me yesterday about a loose tooth. Literally, to show me that her tooth was loose. She’s cute as a bug and so excited, so I tell her that it’s not long now, and probably she’ll lose her tooth at lunch.

At around 230 that same day, she comes running in with a huge toothless grin, “My tooth fell out! Now can I have a tooth necklace (I told you, still all the rage!)?? It was all loose and twisting but it wouldn’t come out and I was too scared so my two friends held me down ANDTHENTHEYPULLEDITOUTFORME!!!”

Kids still do this? I can’t remember ever having the balls to let a friend rip a tooth out. That being said, my parents might be able to jog my memory. Anyhoo, no harm no foul. She’s the proud new owner of a regulation sized, official school RN white tooth case with blue necklace option.

>3. Finally, I thought to pour the medicine into a plastic spoon and add a little choc. Milk to that. Then he only takes one swallow and is guaranteed to get the entire dose… right?! Well, except when he doesn’t. I’m not even sure how this happened, but the 2nd day we tried this, he STILL managed to evade the entire dose on the first swallow. I’m about out of ideas.

This morning, he didn’t show. I found him wandering the hall and called him over:

Gagsy: “Hi. I didn’t come for my medicine because my chocolate milk is frozen.”
Me: “Oh, bummer. Well, I guess we’ll have to use water with it in the spoon!”
Gagsy: “I don’t drink water.” [rolls his eyes]
Me: “Do they have juice in the room?” [grinding my teeth]
Gagsy: “I don’t like juice.”

REALLY?!?!?

Of course, I can hear FS just LOVING this conversation, as Gagsy is her favorite 3rd grader. I have to admit that I would probably think all of this was hilarious if I wasn’t the one pulling teeth every morning. Wait. I haven’t tried pulling teeth yet… 😉

>I have an ongoing feud with one of my 3rd graders. Every morning I trick, cajole, threaten and force him to take his medicine. Every morning he tricks, squirms, bargains, and gags his way out of this same medicine.
I think I’ve finally gotten this under control but not without the following scenarios (most of which have occurred more than once):

1. Try to make him swallow the capsule. Have him place capsule on back of tongue and drink water. Standard form of medication administration. Totally useless as it involves approximately 30min of attempts, and results in water on floor, back of sink, trash can and student. Also wasted: at least one extra dose of medicine that has been mostly dissolved and spit all over floor, trash, and student.
Variation: bring classroom teacher in to attempt to “scare” student straight. Results: very similar but makes teacher understand that I’m not “doing it wrong”.  
Verdict: failed, but preferable to first scenario.

Eventually it became crystal clear that I was not going to get him to swallow the stupid medicine. Some people are unable to swallow pills their entire life. To save myself the frustration, I’ve put Gagsy in this category. That makes it acceptable for me to cave and allow him the chocolate milk without considering it a reward for bad behavior. 🙂

2. Empty capsule into chocolate milk brought by student.
Result: he spends almost 10 minutes a morning pinching his nose, dramatically taking very small sips of the chocolate milk and notifying me of every single ball (there’s an incredibly small volume of little teeny beads- think of the white ones on those yummy mint candies from Hillshire farms) that gets “stuck in his throat” or accidentally chewed.

Unintended Variation: If someone else is in the room, fuggeddaboudit. He spends more time performing than sipping. I’ve tried bribes and threats to make this process faster, with absolutely no luck. I consider it “lucky” if he doesn’t gag and spit onto my office floor.

The Test: The morning after a particularly trying day, I decided to prove to him that the chocolate milk tasted fine with medicine in it. While he was watching, I poured some milk in the cup, and pretended to sprinkle his medicine in. I then swirled it around and handed it over. He took a sip, and stood there for awhile with his mouth full and his head down. I was sweating it a little because it would blow up in my face if he could actually tell it wasn’t medicated. But sure enough, he looks up (to make sure I’m watching), gags a little, then forces it down.

Me: [jumping up and down] “Ah ha! I got you. I know for sure that you’re faking when you pretend that it’s so gross. There isn’t even any medicine in there. You can’t taste when it IS in there because then you would know when it was missing. Now you HAVE to take it fast! HA! HAHAHA!!”
Gagsy: [pauses for a moment, considering my outburst.] Says, “That was a pretty good trick.”

Of course, my gloating lasted about 5 more seconds before he resumed his gagging/spitting/sipping/whining routine.

>Two little 1st graders walking into my office, both moaning and groaning and holding the side of their head.

I asked, “Uh oh. Did we have a head-on collision?”
The reply, “No. We bumped heads.”

Oh. Okay. Another good example of kid-brain.

>50% of visit made to my office on Friday came from one class. Ms Bliss can’t help that her kids are, well, nevermind. Let’s just say that it’s not her fault. As I was walking up towards the cafeteria with a kiddo to go look at her partially digested lunch (my Mac and cheese sitting lonely but not forgotten in the microwave), I hear FS telling a parent, “The nurse will be right back. She’s just going to look at some throw up.” So funny!

Also Friday, I was told by a 4th grade teacher that two little girls came up to her with a tooth, asking to go to the nurse for a plastic tooth container necklace that is apparently all the rage.

Thing is, the tooth didn’t belong to either one of them. My favorite 4th grader decided to be generous and let them borrow the avulsed tissue specimen. What a prince.

>

Why write a boring note to the nurse when the kid obviously has dried out knuckles with tiny bleeding cracks in them? I’d much rather get this note which incites a hilarious visual (the kid is suuuper quiet and shy) and still gets me to look in the right place for the booboo.

>A little boy and his brother were waiting for their ride after school. Thing 1 peeks into FS’s office through the little window cut in the glass. I lean over to hear what he’s saying:

Thing 1: Um, excuse me. My uncle is supposed to pick us up. Um, what time is it?
Me: It’s 10 minutes til 2. 1:50.
Thing 1: Is that after 5:02?
Me: Nope, but 5:02 isn’t for over 3hours. [at this point I’m trying not to laugh, and FS is starting to worry that it might be a looong day at the office if she can’t get a taker for Thing 1 and Thing 2.] Do you think maybe he said 2:05?
Thing 1: Well, maybe. So how many minutes til 5:02?
Me: 0_o … Nvmnd.

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