Wednesday was another trip to the eye doctor for Dan. In an attempt to negotiate with the terrorists, I brought along a bag of jelly beans.
Kind of. Dan participates in the eye exam thanks to the sweets, but Eve is something I'd have to s-p-e-l-l instead of say out loud. I think the sugar coupled with afternoon exhaustion did little more than wind her up and turn her into a distant cousin of Chucky.
The good news? The patching has worked to correct Dan's amblyopia. Both eyes are equal. Finally, a condition that can be remedied without medicine or surgery, but with simple patches and a desire to channel one's inner pirate. Now, instead of patching two hours a day every day, he can take the weekends off, just to make sure the weaker eye doesn't revert back to it's lazy ways.
The bad news? Eve was so bad that the doctor wouldn't even let her get a lollipop at the end of the visit. The okay news? She cried so hard about it that she passed out as soon as she was buckled into the van. Nothing like the ugly cry to wear you out.
I think Eve's problem at her siblings' doctor appointments is that she is mad that she isn't the patient. Lucky for her, we had her one-year off-treatment appointment and scans at Duke on Friday.
They're going to take pictures of my belly! And then they'll take my temperature! And then they'll take my blood pressure! And they are gonna see how big I am! And then they're going to poke me and see my blood! And then they're going to tickle my belly! I WANNA GO NOW!
The biggest deal for me, only second to clean scans, was the fact that Eve finally peed in a cup. They test the urine for something, which I would think would be important, except for the fact that they've been trying to get a sample from her since October 2009.
After a false alarm, I shelved my disappointment and put the empty specimen cup back into my handbag and reverted to role as crazy lady who walks around with a specimen cup in her purse.
On trip number two, I somehow managed to hold the cup under her without catching one drop of pee. That takes talent. Dry specimen cup back into the purse.
I pumped her full of juice boxes and finally caught the long awaited for specimen on trip number three. Now I'm the crazy lady who walks around with a specimen cup full of pee in her purse. Hey, I didn't want to lose it. And to be honest, as little modesty as I possess, I would still feel a tad uncomfortable walking back into the waiting room carrying that yellow cup. Nonchalance has never been one of my strong suits when it comes to holding bodily fluids.
So, clean scans + good labs + great check-up = Taco Bell. Victory tacos abound. But to be honest, we would have been stopping there no matter the news; I would either be eating celebratory chalupas or emotionally eating my way through the value menu, and then maybe some into the KFC side.