zum Arzt

Go, Tiger!

When Alex came home from school at lunchtime, I was busy pulling together his lunch. As he was taking off his shoes, I called out questions about his day and asked, off-handed, if he'd brought back any of the sliced apples I'd given him for znüni, his morning snack time.  (In Swiss German, "nüni" means "9.")

"No. I ate the whole apple. Instead I brought you pictures. That's much better than rotting apples, I think."

Hm. Yes.

This year, instead of caterpillars and butterflies, the class has been divided into the much more manly bears (first years) and tigers (second years).

Alex chattered on about his classroom: he'd spent a long part of the morning playing with trains, but everyone wanted to play trains and so eventually he had to go play with cars instead, but really he wanted to play trains.  Kindergarten: it can be rough.

And then the phone rang...a call from Ella's school.  One of the teachers had found her out in front of the school, close to panic.  I'd told her at breakfast this morning that she needed to wait for me after school in the afternoon because I needed to take her and Alex to the doctor.  But at the line-up for lunch, one of her classmates told Ella he'd thought he'd seen me, and Ella had gotten confused and worried, and she stayed after, running around the school grounds, looking for me.  The kind teacher had found her and had helped her look for a moment, and then called me to find out what Ella should be doing.

I asked him to send her home, and when she arrived, she was starving and flustered and sweating from running around in the 90-degree heat. Poor girl.

I had my German class this afternoon, and learned that my class of one is, indeed, being disbanded: it's too expensive to maintain my private lesson. My teacher says I'll get an e-mail in the next few days, though, assigning me to a new class.  That considered, my teacher and I saw no reason not to stray from the Berlitz curriculum for once, so we got to spend the day chit-chatting, mostly in German, about pretty places to visit in America and Germany.  It was so much fun: perhaps, more than a German class, I need a conversation partner.

Ella's mood hadn't improved at all when I went to pick her up after our classes.  She was tired and scared: she knew she had to get some warts treated at the doctor's and she knows how painful that can be. Alex gets quiet and withdrawn when they're frightened; unfortunately, Ella get snappish.  She was in such a grumpy mood, I decided it would be better not to inform her that she'd be getting a shot today, in addition to having her warts treated.

When Dennis took Alex to the doctor a few days ago, he did a complete physical of our little guy.  He asked that we consider getting a meningococcal-C shot for the kids.  Apparently, the doctor was on some commission to determine whether this inoculation should become compulsory for Swiss children. He told me about this several times: his message was clear. "I'm kind of a big deal."

But his office was, hm, understated. It was clearly a converted apartment: the examination room was obviously once a kitchen, for example. And he spent a good deal of our visit entering our charges into his billing software. And he didn't accept credit cards.

As odd as all that seemed (and truly, it isn't odd for Switzerland...that's just the way things are here), when he was dealing with the children, he had a very nice way about him, and he was completely unfazed as Alex started screaming when it came time to take out his stitch and receive his shot.

Meanwhile, Ella was standing outside the kitchen, watching.  "Okay," said the doctor, looking up at her. "Your turn."

Ella looked back at him, straight-faced. "Yeah...I'd rather not."

But the doctor took this as the joke it was meant to be, and judged, correctly, that Ella would be much happier if she was treated as the big girl she is.  So while I comforted Alex, Ella sat down and took her medicine, quickly and without the least bit of fuss.

After that, her mood did a complete 180.  She was bubbling, all the way home, about how this is the first time a shot didn't bother her, and how brave and grown-up she felt. Trying to escape the heat, finally, we had the briefest of dinners and then ran across the street to the pool.  Ella, still high on her bravery, decided she was ready to face another fear and took a jump off the 3-meter board.

It wasn't the best day, but by the end of it everyone was happy and calm. It's easy to tell. Alex always requests his favorite lullaby when he feeling chipper.  (Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, of course.) And Ella grows chatty at bedtime, trying to draw out the good day, just a little longer.  Her parting shot tonight was "Dad, so, what's life really all about? Why are we here?" Nice try.