420 Summit

Dad is grouchy

Ask me how I spent my day? Go on, I dare you.

No?

Okay, I’ll tell you anyway. I spent the day trying to fix the damage that an incompetent nitwit, displaying the judgment of a micro encephalitic snail, did to my life with a single phone call. I am, in equal parts, embarrassed and livid.

Heads are going to roll. Hell, rolling, even on skateboards, isn’t enough. They are going on pikes. In front of City Hall. Covered in honey and bees. On fire.

Last week my thirteen-year old bruised his back roughhousing with his friends at school. Nothing unusual there. The boy is cavalier with his body and cuts and bruises go with the territory. My guys are 13 and 15 and, shall we say, active. They skate, jump, climb, ski and bike along with doing all sorts of scary shit I don’t even want to know about. If you want to find a good thirty-foot jump off a cliff, anywhere in central New York, just ask them. They terrify me on a daily basis and I don’t like being on a first name basis with ER staff in three counties, but I’m not taking their boards and bikes away.

I did take the archery gear, but that’s a different story.

So, doing her job, this school nurse called to express her concern. As well she should. I thanked her and said that I would evaluate the injury and take appropriate action.

Yeah, he had a bruise, but after spending the next four days playing ball and raking leaves, he said he didn’t feel a thing. The bruising had all but vanished so I merrily him off to school. Seemed the thing to do. You know, since there was nothing wrong with the kid.

Yesterday, the school nurse pulled him out of class and asked him if he had received medical care.

He hadn’t — since there was nothing wrong with him.

Are you sensing a theme?

The nurse then returns him, without ever looking at his back, to class. Then she promptly picks up the phone and calls CPS (Child Protective Services) to file a neglect complaint against me.

Last night, a couple of polite — though bulky — gentleman show up at my door and want to play twenty questions. Bring it on. I know my rights and I know the system. That’s not the issue. These guys are doing their job and will figure it out. Or they can bite me. Six of one, half-dozen of the other.

However, I now have a child abuse allegation kicking around in the county database. To put it mildly, this does not thrill me. In the decade that I have had sole custody of my children never has anyone, even my ex and her seemingly endless crop of attorneys — I swear, she must have a lawyer tree — questioned my fitness as a parent. It just doesn’t happen.

At least not until now.

So: I lose a day of work, am embarrassed in my home while dining with friends, provide my lunatic ex with some ammo and get to make new friends in the law enforcement community. Because of spite. That’s all it is. This newbie nurse had a tantrum and messed with my life because I dared to disagree with her ‘professional opinion’.

Well, lady, I have news for you. I have been a first responder and around the medical field since you were trying on training bras. I have forgotten more pediatric emergency medicine and first aid than you have ever known.

I, and I alone, will determine when or if my children need medical attention. I’m not an idiot so I’ll seek the counsel of those whose opinions I respect — no, your not on the list — and then make an informed decision about what is best for my child. I’m a parent. I get to do that.

According to the St. Claire’s ER doctor, that I will now owe a weeks pay to, I am not the first parent you have pulled this on. But I may be well be the last.

Note: since this was written I have met with the school administration. The nurse, who was in the building, could not manage to find five minutes to join us. Maybe she will find time for the superintendents meeting.