It must be a coincidence, but it's starting to creep me out a little.
The last time I had to deal with something BIG ... namely the birth of our son ... Mercury was in retrograde.
The thinking on this phenomenon is that since the planet Mercury rules communication things in that department get a little haywire during the four times a year when the planet appears to slow down and move backward.
So it turns out Mercury is again in retrograde, which, were I the superstitious type, in my mind would account for the slight mixup today at the hospital where Silas had his procedure.
We kind of ping-ponged back and forth between the nuclear medical department and radiology looking for a rather elusive pediatric nurse capable of installing an IV.
A very attractive nurse from the pediatrics floor was finally found and, after a somewhat torturous ten minutes, was able to get a 20 guage line in on the boy. He ended up smiling and flirting with her at the end of the ordeal, but who wouldn't? She was terribly cute.
The technician in charge of inserting the catheter had problems, too. Making me a little crazy with her question about whether it had been difficult to catheterize him the last time.
Well, yes and no.
Yes, there was a problem the last time. The catheter was defective and had to be replaced. And No, the process itself seemed to go well.
Aside from that, the test went much better than I had envisioned. He cried. He'd be a robot if he didn't. No one likes to be strapped down, pricked and have a tiny hose snaked up their privates.
But then he stopped crying and fell asleep during most of the hour-long procedure.
The technician who actually took the radioactive isotope out of its lead case and sent into hurling into the boys kidneys so it could be recorded going through his system for the better part of an hour was a doll.
She made the whole thing much easier for us, the worried parents.
Silas made it easier, too. He was a trooper. Total rock star. Once he was free from the tubes and the contraptions he smiled as if nothing had happened; as if the whole day was just starting again. He even giggled a little for his reluctant torturers.
Of course it wouldn't be OUR story if the doctor's office didn't call on our way to the test and tell us that they were canceling our consult. The Big Kahuna was down with the flu. Probably the same one that had me in the turlet for six hours last week.
So we don't know the results of the test and we'll be drumming our fingers until Friday.
I hope Mercury is back on track by then.