But despite thinking that I at least had an explanation, Ironflower was worrying me (and her grammy). So we went to the ER while my Dad watched Lovebug (which I needlessly worried about, they had a great time and I am very grateful).
Ironflower just clung to me, not wanting to talk or hear stories or sing. The wait was not as long as I'd feared, though it still left me enough time to mentally insult all the people waiting ahead of us. None of them looked that sick, let me tell you.
Anyway, the condescending nurse
We were sent to treatment room. Ironflower was given what must have been a double dose of Motrin, which she responded to fairly quickly. But still, it's hard to get poked and prodded even when you're feeling 100% and Ironflower handled the doctor wonderfully. It's not that I would have been upset if she'd cried or protested or fought, it was what I expected. Hell, I cried when I got a spinal before Lovebug's c-section (okay, the doctor also had some issues inserting it, but that's another post). But Ironflower stuck her chin out and showed her will of Iron. She understood that everything was necessary so that she could feel better and so she handled it.
Color me impressed.
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