Mom Pushes the Wrong Button on the ElevatorSubmitted by Mill8178 at 2009-03-22 03:33:34 EDT
Rating: 1.75 on 41 ratings (41 reviews) (Review this item) (V)
I mentioned in my previous story that when I was a child, my parents discovered I had terrible allergies to most of the living creatures on their farm. Determined to make the allergies a thing of the past, I was taken to see an allergist. I was put on a routine program of weekly allergy shots in an attempt to make life on a farm easier. Initially, I was like any 3 year old, terrified shitless at the very sight of a needle. However once I discovered that I got to pick a "prize" out of the prize chest when I took my allergy shot like a champ, I soon got over this fear. I would pick out 2 prizes each week, one to take home, and one to sit aside for next week. They were nothing special; crappy vending machine toys actually, but it made me happy, and less of a whiny little bitch for my mom to deal with each week, so it was a win-win situation all around.
When the shots weren't having the desired effect after a year or so, the doctor decided to conduct a skin test to see exactly what was causing my allergies. For those who haven’t endured this test, they basically mark off a grid over your entire back, stick each square with a common allergen, and see which squares turn red and swollen. You are allergic to those things. Now think of a way to explain the fact that you are about to be stuck with several hundred needles all in one day to a three year old without terrifying the living Christ out of him. Can't do it? Neither could Mom. Her solution? Just don't tell me. Just treat it like a normal weekly visit. We waited in the waiting room like normal, and I kept myself occupied by playing with the toys the doctor kept the waiting room stocked with.
Then the doctor came out and called my name. I remember thinking that this was rather unusual, as it was normally the nurse that gave me my shot. The doctor led me and my Mom down the hall and placed us in a room with an exam table. Then he brought me the "new toy" for the waiting room. It was like a viewmaster, but it had film cartridges that you popped in and turned a little handle. I remember thinking how cool it was! I watched part of a cartoon with Mickey, Goofy and Donald Duck chasing ghosts through some creepy looking house. As soon as I was done the doctor called in 2 other nurses, who proceeded to hold me down on the table as the doctor injected my back with potential allergens. I screamed like, well.... like a 3 year old for a while until I passed out from crying so hard. I woke up and remember the doctor telling my Mom something about not letting me sit on any chairs with a back and making sure I sleep on my stomach. It was the first time I can remember my Mother lying to me. The doctor was nice enough to offer me another turn watching a cartoon on his new viewmaster movie thing, but he had lost my trust by that point.
It took several months of weekly visits to the allergy doctor before I felt comfortable with the fact I wasn't going to get repeatedly stabbed in the back again, but things eventually returned to normal. I went in each week, got a shot, and picked out a toy. Then one day, I remember pulling up to the medical building where I went to get the shots. But something wasn't right. I had just been there and received my shots just yesterday. I asked my Mom, and she PROMISED me that I wasn't going to have to get any more shots in my back. We walked into the lobby and like always I pushed the button to call the elevator. I wasn't tall enough to push the button to get to the third floor, so Mom always had to lift me up to push it. This time however, she just pushed the button herself. When the doors opened, I immediately noticed that something was wrong. The lobby for this doctor’s office had walls painted dark blue, not filled with cartoons like the allergist’s lobby. And where the big box of toys was normally at, there was just a large saltwater aquarium filled with colorful fish. I said "Mommy, you pushed the wrong button! Lift me up and I'll do it!" But Mom had not pressed the wrong button.
She took my hand and walked off the elevator. We approached the receptionist's desk, and my Mom told them I was here for my appointment with Dr. So-and-so. When we sat down, I kept asking her why we were here. She asked me if I remembered how she had yelled at me for having "bad aim" when I was peeing. I said "Yes.", and reminded her that my aim was fine, but for some reason when I peed, it came out all funny. She said "Right! And that shouldn't happen like that. That's why we're here today, the doctor is going to look at your pee-pee and see if it's okay. Thinking that anything had to be better than another series of shots in the back, I shuffled through the magazines until I found a "Highlights" or "Ranger Rick" to look at. Everything was going to be okay!
The doctor came out shortly and called my name. We walked down the hall and ended up in another exam room. My mother told him about what was happening when I would try to piss. There were 2, sometimes 3 small streams that would spray in every direction. The doctor asked me if I thought I could go pee if I tried really hard. I told him that I might be able to, and all 3 of us went down to the restroom. I stood there and pissed like a champ, with my Mom and the doc watching on like it was game 7 of the World Series! And there it was, multiple streams of piss coming out at such an angle that it would be impossible to keep it all in the toilet. We went back to the exam room after I washed my hands, and the doctor explained the problem to my Mom. I didn't pay attention to any of it, but he basically said that my urethra was trying to seal itself shut. The only way to try and fix the problem was to take a large bore needle, jam it down the urethra and hope that things didn’t grow back together when it healed up.
The doc then asked me to hop up on the exam table. Completely unaware of what was about to transpire, I hopped right up. He then asked me to remove my pants and my Mickey Mouse underoos. Then my Mom told him he may need "a little help". The doctor walked out and returned with 2 nurses. This was starting to feel very familiar. The last time the doctor needed 2 nurses in the room with me, something very very bad happened. This was my cue to start freaking the fuck out! The doctor took out the biggest, widest, longest needle I had ever seen! He proceeded to force it into my pisshole and rip the tissue apart. The thought of what was actually happening took precedence over the amount of pain I was feeling. I cannot tell you if the pain was excruciating, or really not that bad. I was too terrified at the moment to feel the pain. What I do remember, is watching to make sure my Mom pushed the right button each and every time I went back to get an allergy shot.