GP terror

Last night I enjoyed an evening with a friend, a few beers and a pizza. A little wibbly, we left to the chanting of St. Georges Medical School's Hockey Team.

This morning I took Seth (with Ezra in tow) for his eight week check and immunizations. Our GP is always slightly apprehensive when he sees us appear in the surgery. We've had a bit of a run of bad luck health wise.

"Ezra is looking well" he commented, then guiltily "I should've sent him straight in" referring to an earlier visit, when Ezra had a nasty chest infection which resulted in an overnight stay in hospital.

"How are you?" he asked, I assumed referring to my battered body after two c sections, two laparotomies, an amniotic embolism, 11 litres of many other peoples blood, a psoas abscess, secondary pneumonia, collapsed lungs, arthritic hip and stomach ulcers. Or perhaps he was just being polite.

"Fine" I replied truthfully.

Back to Seth, and convinced of his giant stature and bulging weight, I looked on proudly as he was weighed and measured. His stats are virtually identical to those of his brother at the same age and also prove that he is a little under average in the percentile stakes, and definitely a product of our diddy gene pool. Happily, our GP confirmed that he can see, and hear, has both testicles, a fully functioning penis, mobile hips and a fine set of pipes.

He is well other than a bit of immature baby eczema, and a slightly sticky right eye. Not at all bad.

On to the jabs and Seth disapproved loudly. Ezra was a little shocked by the noise his little brother was making and shot the nurse a menacing stare. She was appropriately intimidated and apologized profusely. I dressed the purple faced screamer and Ezra helped me carry our jackets and bags back to the car.

We dosed Seth after an hour of screaming and he fed and slept for the rest of the afternoon. Ezra and I watched ER, ate nuggets, chips and fruit and snuggled up for a three hour nap.