This morning, I set the alarm to get up and out of the house early enough to get Max down to Children's for the outpatient clinic. If we have to do lab visits, we prefer to do it on a Saturday morning, because it's completely empty! The lab-techs are always in a good mood, because it's a short day for them, and we're in and out in a flash.
Today didn't require Max to come into the hospital, because today was just a poo drop. We're back at it...Max's poo is giving him problems, so we need to have it tested. It could be all of the antibiotics he was on in the hospital. It could be that's he's on retched formula again. It could be that his guts have no idea what they're doing after being messed with yet again. Whatever the case, his poo has been bothering him, and before we start medicine like we've had to in the past, we need to make sure he's not got infection.
So, I sat crouched in Max's van scooping poo with a little spoon into specimen cups...yes three cups...all while Max giggled at the gagging noises. Oh what a crazy life. Sometimes, I think, you literally could not make this stuff up.
We got the samples into the lab in the knick of time before they closed for the day, and decided on such a spectacular September afternoon to head to Max's favorite place in all of Denver...Washington Park.
I brought along a large quilt, and we found a partly shaded area to spread out and picnic. When Max gets to the park, he rolls to his side and goes to sleep. I think if I really needed him just to sleep all I would need to do is lay a blanket on the ground and let him roll over.
We ate, and talked, and played...all while Max snoozed a little. And dug his piggies into the grass and dirt while the sunlight tickled his face, and the breeze kept him cool.
Even with the poo...this life is beautiful.