The doctor informed me that yes, my little one had early bronchitis.
I took the prescription from her hand and off we went down the hall. But not before my eldest had to weigh himself.
Of-course because his big brother did, my little guy had to step on the scale too.
As I picked up my youngest to head to the pharmacy within the building I turned to take hold of my eldest's hand.
He wasn't there.
"Adrian!" I called out.
I walked back down the hall way peering into the rooms where patients were waiting to be seen...
He's never just not there. Especially in public places.
He's got to be around here.
A nurse approaches me..."My son...he was just here and now he's just disappeared...." a sound of disbelieving nervous laughter bubbles out as she quickly walks away to help find my son.
The mounting panic could be contained no longer...I practically ran through the maze of halls in the walk-in clinic with my 33 lb child in my arms, looking in every room, calling out his name.
I must've said his name about 20 times.
Sprinted through the halls about half a dozen.
The longest and most horribly panicked, nightmarish two minutes of my life.
I turned a corner and there he stood.
"He was standing in front of the candy in the pharmacy across the hall." Said the kind blonde woman who just saved me from having an all out nervous breakdown.
I became that mother.
"Don't you ever do that to me again...do you hear me!?? You scared Mommy so badly! I had no idea where you were! Don't DO that again okay? Promise me!"
I practically yelled at him as I pulled him out of the doctor's office, an awful mix of feelings in my gut.
Relief, anger, relief, adrenaline, relief, embarassment, relief.
Thank God he was okay....
Thank you God.