Reflux rears it’s ugly head, and Christy’s email probably remains unaccessible; but the show must go on.

Beth went to see the latest doctor in what has been called, “the Grand Tour of Pediatric Specialists”; or, in honor of my in-laws: “le Tour de Docteur Medecin Enfant Specialiste.” (Bet you’d never guess I don’t have a lick of French in me, and I made that all up on the fly.)

The most recent addition to the tour was the G.I. specialist. We went because Beth was full of crap, or so we were told. The G.I. Guy said it was more likely our primary was full of it. The good doctor said Beth’s only problem was a strong desire to hold it in. He prescribed lactulose to loosen her up – to force the issue, if you know what I mean.

We quickly passed that however, because he seemed to be more interested in another one of her quirks: her thing with mixing-up a common cliche. In Beth’s case it’s: “what goes down must come back up.” He seemed to think she still has reflux, noting it’s not normal to throw up so often. He prescribed Zantac and Reglan.

As a result, our mornings now start with a virtual parade of prescription medications. To finish off her bronchitis and ear infection, we start the morning with Zithromax. We immediately follow with a Zantac/Reglan/Delsym cocktail chaser. She gets a half hour break to eat breakfast. If we’re lucky we get a pinch of vomiting in between. Last, before leaving for school, we give a dose of lactulose to send her off on her day nice and loose. When we all get home, we get to do much of it all over again, with a vitamin and Zyrtec added into the mix.

Ah, the joy of prescription medications. Perhaps an appropriate toy for our next child (if we have another) would be the Fisher Price “My First Pharmacy.”