fleas in my ear

Oh my! I am currently being tested to the limits of my patience by Clara, who may or may not be injured and in pain, after a fall on her coccyx last week. One minute she is fine, skipping about, fighting with her brothers etc. The next minute she is emitting this whingeing cry, and I have no idea how much is genuine, and how much she is milking it, although I am convinced that both are happening. Pathetic whingeing brings out my least admirable side, parenting-wise, as I really struggle not to look irritated. We have been to a&e at the insistence of the school, because whilst she was remarkably active all weekend, she found herself in unbearable pain on Monday morning, and was sobbing in the medical bay, and I got the home phone call and The Lecture, and she had to be collected. 2 weeks previously, I had The Lecture after I sent her in to school with a bruise on her hand, and she went scuttling to medical ("There are a great many bones in the hand which can be broken, Mrs Edey!"), so with a flea in my ear, I took her up to a&e as requested, to get a 2nd flea after waiting for a couple of hours for an overstretched doctor to tell me she had a bruised hand! This time she told the triage nurse that this was her second trip to a&e in 2 weeks, and I suddenly felt like I was being viewed rather coldly. It seems rather pointed, the way they ask Clara to explain what happened, twice, so they can check for consistency presumably, whilst I sit squirming under the scrutiny. The doctor said on this occasion she has another bruise. If I blurt out "the school made me come!" will I look uncaring? If I point blank refuse the next time the school tell me she needs to go to hospital, will I look neglectful? Now that's 4 fleas in 2 weeks (and we wont even mention the miniature versions the mangy cats are merrily infesting the house with... I'll save that for another blog, another day!)