Being sick in Paris was not in the cards...

Oscar’s groaning and yelling at daddy in the night and I reach over

to soothe him to feel the fever.  And when he has one, it’s clear.  I give him a little bit of Tylenol which is already out because he told me his teeth and head hurt after sleeping for 13 hours, which I could believe.  So, maybe that was the beginning of this or not,  who knows.  But, by 7am Paris time, I already have a list of pediatricians and doctors around us, who speaks English, who doesn’t, etc.  I brought a list with me last time, but this time figured why google and print it at home when I could just google it here.  Well, I  jinxed myself I guess.  And I

 even thought that at the time because I’m very superstitious.  And this is why, I was proven right.  I go back up to wake up John to let him know the plan to have him ask me to look at his eyes.  He got something blown into it the first night coming down into the Metro station and it’s been red since then, but this morning….he looks like he was in a prize fight with a bottle of alcohol from the redness and one eye is almost swollen shut.  It’s obviously pink eye and I won’t touch him until I find out in the internet that there is allergy conjunctivitis.  So, I have two sick boys, but I’m pretty sure that we can fix John at the pharmacy.  We go to one who is able to give us

 steroid drops for his eyes and maybe that will make things better.  So, with calls made by the concierge at the hotel to everyone around us and her pediatrician too, we have a doctor to see at 9:30am in Paris.  This is a first.  I’ve seen a doctor in the Netherlands when we found out I was pregnant with Oscar, but it didn’t feel like a real doctor’s visit.  I wasn’t sick, I was pregnant.  I write down as much as I can to give the doctor the idea of the last week because Oscar just

got over an ear infection and then in my limited French, his limited English and the way all doctors practice their profession now, he examined Oscar for me.  No ear infection, no throat infection, viral and we need to take ibuprofen and Tylenol on a dosing basis. I pay him 30 euros and walk down to the pharmacy to pay 6 euros for the meds.  Are you kidding me?  That entire interaction in the US would have cost at the very least $100.   When 8am hits the US, I confirm everything with Dr. Rao’s

  office who say all the same things and reassure me that it will most likely be gone in 48 hours.  Good thing, because we’re running out of time for Disneyland.  But now I’m getting to sit in a hotel room with Oscar sleeping, John with cold compresses on his eyes after leaving the students at the Louvre with Rachel and only limited times out to go get food and things.  This is not how I envisioned this going, but when do things ever go to plan?