Confirmation

Who knew it would be so complicated to have a simple peanut allergy verified? Maybe I should rewind a little. We have know that L was allergic to peanuts since she was about 18 months old and found out the old fashioned way; she ate it and broke out in a measle-like rash twice. Since then, it was something we just accepted and informed her of and that was that. Well, given the explosion of peanut allergies to varying degrees in the schools, they now require notice from a physician along with guidelines for treatment in the case of exposure. Ok, no problem. I call her pediatrician's office and request this to which I am told there is no medical documentation of this allergy and she will need to go to allergist to be tested. Huh? Seriously folks, rub peanut butter on her cheek and see what happens. But as a good mom, I call the allergist and request a skin test. No go, we have to have a consultation first. Ok fine, I schedule the consultation for today and off we go. After filling out a ridiculously in-depth, 9-page questionnaire and other necessary documentation, we wait to speak with the allergist who barely makes eye contact while furiously tapping on her keyboard. She orders blood tests first which is obviously safer than exposing her I admit, but the barrage of questions from L are what I dread. They begin immediately.
L: "How will they look at my blood?"
Me: "On a glass slide just like M has for her microscope."
L: "How will they "hold" it?"
Me: "You mean, how will they store it?"
L" "Yes."
Me: "In a test tube like on Dexter's Laboratory."
L: "How will they get it out of me?"
Me: silence. This is the question I do not want to answer so I change the subject immediately to the book she is reading until we are at the lab. Thankfully no one is waiting ahead of us. We go back with the nurse and she hesitantly sits down. Then she sees it, the needle. Oh no. Another nurse comes to "assist" (ie. hold down this hysterical 49 pound 8 year old). A few seconds and a Garfield band-aid and we're done. Though now she refuses to bend her left arm and is still crying that horrible pitiful, "how could you do this to me" cry. At this I am defenseless. Anything she wants, she can have and she knows it. Her demands are simple. A new Webkin like M got for her x-ray and hey, x-rays are a cake walk compared to needles and she gets to pick dinner. Luby's it is. Only thing is that daddy has to work late, M is going to her bff's choir performance and C is in PlayStation land so it's just the two of us which is surprisingly perfectly ok with L. We stand in line and she orders for herself like a big girl while the woman behind me makes polite conversation. But there is something in this woman's eyes that doesn't sit right with me. I notice there is no one in line behind her and she is ordering only one meal. We finish up, pay and sit down in L's favorite booth by the window and something is still gnawing at me. I see this woman gingerly carry her tray very slowly and with some difficulty to her table to sit alone. I think on it for a minute because I really wanted to spend some time with just me and L, but my heart is racing and I know that God is tugging on me. I can't stand it and I ask L if she thinks that eating alone is any fun. She says no that she thinks it would be lonely. So I ask if she were sitting along would she want someone to ask her to join them and she remembers the lady in line and emphatically says yes. So I walk over to her table across the dining area and ask her if she is alone and would she like to join us. At first she is confused and asks if I am sure. "Of course I am" I say, "No one should eat alone." She is so touched that she gets a little wet in the eyes ans asks for me to give her just a minute and I do given that I am too a little misty. I help her with her tray and she joins me and L for dinner and tells L all about her grandkids which are about L & M's ages and her daughters who are an accountant and a lawyer. L tells her about her harrowing ordeal at the lab and the woman, Charlotte, tells L of her stroke and frequent doctor visits and that she doesn't particularly like doctor's either, but that they saved her life and that they mean no harm. L is affected by this and decides not to hate them anymore. When we are finished, she excuses herself and gives L a quarter and tells her that in her day that was a lot of money to which my generous loving daughter says, "it is to me." My heart is full, we did the right thing and there is no greater gift than what we all feel right now. There was a reason that only the two of us went this evening and I am grateful for God's intervention.


Jello make everything better.
We ordered Daddy and C dinner before we left and so I took some pics of L in the warm sunset light while we waited. Her mood is decidedly different and I know that it isn't Luby's cuisine that has changed it.


If you are wondering if the Webkin part of her demands were met, have no fear; I am no reneger. After we picked up the boys' dinners, we went across the street (highway) to Justice and not only got one Webkin, but two AND a few choice articles of clothing. Dang those blasted "fun" cards!! So tomorrow she will go to school in new clothes from jeans and a shirt to everything underneath, but she will also be wearing a smile and the knowledge that she left a mark on someone's life and they on hers. All in all, a good day even with the needle.