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My puking son was definitely getting the day off school and I was hoping to be able to rest up too as I am struggling with a minor bug I've got from these germ machines I created. But Ernie's temperature was high and Calpol didn't bring it down and the rash was worse so he needed to see the GP. Catie could take him and I could sleep. Perfick.
But when I rang the surgery they said that the doctor was ill and probably off for the next two days and so we'd have to go to hospital. And as Catie had an appointment, I'd have to take him. I wanted to avoid this. The last few trips to A and E have been so interminable and stressful that I didn't think either of us could make it through without getting more ill. It's a good policy to reduce waiting lists - make A and E so impractical and useless that no one bothers to go and use it, meaning if you do go and use it you get seen STRAIGHT AWAY. It's going to take a little time to reach that stage, so hopefully we can give Richy Sunak that time by voting him back in with a huge majority.
Luckily we didn't have to go to A and E. We could go the the Urgent Treatment Centre at Welwyn hospital where (apparently) the wait wouldn't be so bad. And as much as I wasn't up for even a short wait, somehow this little boy has made me love him so much that I'll put myself through anything to help him. The little prick. As annoying as he can be, the idea of him not being around to annoy us is unbearable.
And to be fair to the utter idiot, he has been putting up with this horrible illness like a champion - he's puking, he's hot, he's spotty and itchy and exhausted and he's taking it (nearly) all in his stride.
We only had to wait an hour to see a nurse and then maybe fifteen minutes more to see a doctor. I'd been in such a rush to get out that I'd forgotten to bring any work and Ernie was feeling so poorly he didn't even want to play his iPad.
The doctor was great and lots of fun. She asked Ernie to explain what was wrong and what he'd been through and he told her he'd been sick eleven times if you added them all together (I think he's still counting sick coming out of his nose as two) and she put him at his ease asking about pets - Ernie told her that he had a hamster called Cookie, which he does not (not yet anyway). She checked him over and said she thought he had scarlet fever. So kudos to Ernie for catching a disease from Victorian times. And kudos to us as parents for somehow allowing this to happen.
Poor little kid. Though on the plus side he gets a week off school.
We then had to find a chemist with some penicillin in stock (you'd assume that would be easy, but Boots didn't have any so we took a good hour or so sorting that out). I took my Victorian urchin home and hoped he'd be better in a few days. And that I'd be better in a couple of days.
