Paging Dr. Barton

Today was a pajama day. It started out like most other pajama days snuggling with my girls in bed while watching Curious George and The Magic School Bus. I'm not entirely sure what triggered the fight, Monkey probably sat on the blanket wrong upsetting Princess, and (as usual) it just escalated from there. Next thing I knew Princess was screaming and covering her eye; my little Monkey had scratched Princess' cornea badly enough that I could see it without my glasses on. I quickly called Dr. Barton since I had no idea if this warranted a trip to the clinic or ophthalmologist. Luckily he's on a fairly easy rotation this month and was actually able to answer my call. After a few questions that I didn't really know how to answer we decided that she was probably fine but that I should bring her in so that he could check her out, just in case. Shortly after hanging up I received a text saying, "you need to come now. We have a lecture that starts in 20 minutes."

Twenty minutes?! It's pajama day! I can't go in to the clinic with me and my two girls still in pajamas at noon! I frantically start throwing outfits together, pulling shirts on, making sure my pants don't have jelly stains from yesterday's sticky little lunch hands, when Monkey decides it's the perfect time to fall off the bed. Consoling her the best I can while wrangling pants onto squirmy Princess I finally have us dressed with ten minutes to load the car, drive to the clinic, and be seen by Dr. Barton before he has to be at lecture. I buckled both girls in the car (without any shoes on Monkey, who has time for shoes anyway?!) and start backing out of the garage.

Now, I've always wished that life came with background music. So many problems could be avoided if you could hear the eerie tension building music signifying that something is about to go drastically awry. Happy moments would bring far more sappy tears with music swelling with emotion. Today, my wish came true. As I was pulling out onto the street The Piano Guys version of the Mission Impossible theme song started playing. Perfection. With ten minutes until the lecture started and a six minute drive to the clinic I was on a mission. The background music might have compelled my foot to push on the gas peddle a little harder than I normally would have. We pulled into the clinic as the song was ending.

A man smoking a cigarette and drinking a beer informed me just outside the clinic doors that the clinic was closed for lunch and, that while he had wedged a book in the door so that he wouldn't be locked out, he could not let me in since that would get him in trouble. I reassured him that it would be okay as my husband worked there. After some hesitation he decided it would be okay since I had young children with me. Thank heavens for moral citizens looking out for the health and well being of my family. I texted Dr. Barton to let him know that we had arrived. "I ran to grab food," he texted back, "just wait there." But of course, it's only natural that I would go as fast as motherly possible with two little in tow only to arrive with time to spare and Dr. Barton gone. As we waited in the lobby our conscientious friend who had so generously allowed us inside had also let in four other people hoping to be seen. Dr. Barton finally arrived and took a quick look at Princess' eye. "Well, it's definitely scratched, but it should heal just fine on it's own. She's okay." I'm so glad I went through all of that for something that was okay and would heal fine on it's own.

All joking aside, I am very grateful that I didn't have to wait for an appointment or even for the clinic to open again after lunch to have her checked. I am thankful that Dr. Barton had the time to not only answer my call, but check things out for an overly worried mother. That isn't always the case; we were lucky this time. Now, excuse me while I clip Monkey's nails.

- Clara B.