Am I caller #8

The babe has had a few rougher nights lately. He’s exhausted. He’s been a little restless at night. And then he was up a few nights ago with a fever. A hot one. That didn’t want to take a break. The fever that came 6 days after we’ve been more congested than 680 at rush hour. And we had coughing. And grossness. And so, I knew. It was time to make a call to the doc. Time to make sure bro’s bugs that he so thoughtfully shared with everyone in the house are just little virus bugs.  

So I prepped myself. Because calling into the Peds office is basically the same as trying to win free tanning {tsk tsk} in a call-in radio competition circa 1999. Not that I ever did that. Okay. I did. 

7:58.5 am- call. Answering Service. Hang up. 

7:59 am – call. Answering Service. Hang up. Does redial still exist or did the hashtag steal it’s identity?!

7:59.5 am – call. Answering Service. Hang up. 

8:00 am – call. Answering Service. Hang up. 

8:01.3 am – call. Riiiing. Riiiiing. {Hallelujah! I’m totally caller number 8! I’ve totally got this!} 

Thank you for calling your pediatrician’s office, how may I help you? 

Hi! I wanted to try and get my child into see Doctor D today. 

{doing all I can to suppress the question, am I caller number 8?} 

Okay. Hmmm. 
{click. Click. Pause} 
Yeah. So she’s full today. Let me check with a nurse and call you back. 

Her schedule, is full. At 8 am. The moment the phone lines opened. Seems everyone was trying to win free tanning, errrr, time with doctor D. I was not caller number 8. 

I did get a call back. She did squeeze me in. Because she freakin’ rocks. And takes pity on my preemies. Or thinks I’m off my rocker. I mean, who needs a lunch hour anyway {eeek.}. So I definitely owe her cupcakes or vodka. 

Seems everyone’s house has been taken over by the Kindy Crud. Or everyone wants to win free tanning. Which is sorta ridiculous in 2014. I mean, tanning is horrible for you.