Instant Paranoia

JD had his blood drawn last week, just a routine pediatric screening. They check for lead levels and anemia. I knew it was coming, I knew what it was for, and I was very chill about the whole thing.

Till they actually removed the blood from my baby's arm and sent it off to the lab.

Then I started thinking, I mean really thinking, about all the random crap that he sucks and chews on all day long. I mean, lead levels in Fisher-Price toys are high enough, right, and those things are actually produced and intended for babies' mouths. So you can just imagine what's going on with, oh, say, my faux-pearl belt, made in China of wholy synthetic and not-necessarily non-toxic chemical compounds, you know, the one that has rivaled Lambie's place as most-cherished lovey, and the one that he mouths and sucks all.day.long. My stomach started to churn.

Then I started thinking, I mean really thinking, about the enlarged lymph node on his neck. The one that has been there since June, the one that the doctors keep fingering and dismissing. The one that I never really worried about, till the blood went off to the lab. You know what I was thinking. I'm not even going to say it.

So the phone rings. It was the pediatrician's office. I knew they had The Results.

I answer. "Hello, this is Dr. K."

I immediately take it as a Bad Sign. I think, if you were just going to say, "Everything's normal, everything's fine," why would you, the actual Doctor, waste your time calling. I've been in that office. The normal wait is no less than 90 minutes. I know there's no shortage of sick kids in DC.

She continues with pleasantries, inquiring after JD's recently developed fear of towels and whatnot. My heart beats faster. Cut to it. If you're only calling to say, "Everything's normal, everything's fine," why would you waste your time with small talk. I've seen your office. I know you're busy.

I brace myself. I cannot exhale.

And then she says, "Everything's normal, everything's fine."

Ahhhhh. I knew it. And Thank You, God. Thank You.