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And Away We Go!

So as you may recall, I am supposed to go to South America today. The Flight of the Grandparents began Sunday and will conclude this afternoon, resulting in 4 very eager people anxious to spoil my children. I say, “supposed to go” because we’re not actually sure we’re getting on that plane. It’s a combination of Mommy feeling sick about leaving those babies for so long and Papa having a ridiculous job that could prevent his departure. Regardless, I’ve been preparing myself, the house and the kids just in case I actually have to pack that new swimsuit and pile of trashy books and fly away. So what does a super OCD Mommy/pediatrician do to prepare to leave her children behind?

First is the stuff I don’t want to think about. In the US, doctors aren’t legally allowed to treat a child without its parent’s consent, except in the case of a true emergency. Technically, I’m not supposed to even tell Grandma what kind of antibiotic he had last month without Mom’s express permission. Therefore, if you are leaving your little ones behind, it’s prudent to have some kind of legal documentation drawn up. A notarized letter giving permission for Aunt Jane to seek medical care for the child is probably okay. It’s also a good idea to let your pediatrician know that you are out of town and it’s okay to talk to Cousin Sally about little Johnnie. Of course, we live in England where they don’t have such rules. Here they assume that if I trust my mother to care for the kid, I trust her to deal with an ear infection. It’s called “implied consent” and it saved me one little step. But you Yanks should be aware.
Secondly, OCD Mommy wrote out a Handbook. Typed. 6 pages. Seriously. But at the very least, what is important could probably be put into 1 page. Our pediatrician’s number, after-hours number and address went at the top. Right under that I listed phone numbers for everyone who might be of help while I’m gone, like my sitter, my neighbor and our plumber (I’m very practical). Then I listed our home address and phone number, because in an emergency will they remember where they are? Finally I left instructions on how to call emergency services because it’s different in different places. At my house you have to dial “9” to get an outside line, then “999” for the British “911.” Don’t get worried. I inked it for them. I’m not even mentioning medications and allergies because I’m sure you already thought of that.
And then of course, I wrote down all the stuff that made my father declare me, “completely neurotic,” like the exact recipe for cinnamon apples that Eva likes. And how often to feed my plants. So now I suppose all that is left is to actually pack my bags and kiss my babies. It’s making me sick inside. I’ll let you know how it goes.
By the way, I’ll do my best to keep up with you the next week and a half but of course everything will depend on internet access, time and hemisphere. Either way, I’ll be thinking of you!

Dr. Lara Zibners, Aug 24, 2010

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