No, your resident grammar freako did NOT make a spelling error in the title of this post! I’ve simply created a new portmanteau out of “chilling” and “Children’s Hospital.” You’re welcome! Stop cringing!
We’re currently prepping for E’s first EEG of 2017, and then a followup neurology appointment, also his first of the year. He was a little fussy about our break in the evening routine (we stayed at a hotel the night before since the EEG is scheduled early in the morning) but he finally slept a little.
I am not looking forward to the EEG. The last few we had at our South Dakota clinic were screamfests, despite the best work of the techs. E is Mister Sensitive. I know certain members of my family would be glad to jump on here and let me know “it’ll probably be better this time! After all, he’s older now!” Of course, by that oft-repeated rationale, he should be able to crawl, walk, run, talk, hold a spoon, enjoy the car seat, and be babysat. Who knows? Maybe today is the day! WHO. KNOWS.
Bitter? Me? Nah. Now, cranky.* Yes. And I humbly recognize that E sleeps through the night at least twice a week. Who knows, indeed?
Anyway, back to chilling. I will infuse this whole hospital with my chill and E won’t be able to help but be calm. The chill will shudder down the elevator shafts and the corridors and through intensive care units and chemo rooms until everyone is frickin’ freezing…and calm. Here we go.
*too little sleep, too many exclamation points. Stop poking me, ghosts of Fitzgerald and Twain. I will laugh at my own jokes all I want.