My stupid doctor speak moment of the week:
After sitting through over an hour and a half of torture in the Hematology/Oncology waiting room. I had ALL three kids with me by the way. This is an important point. I finally couldn’t take it anymore and asked if anyone knew just when we'd be seen. I was trying to be patient. Because. Well. Let’s face it. Sitting in a room with children clearly battling cancer has a way of adding perspective and clarifying that we are not the axis of the universe. But. I seriously wasn't sure I could contain the kids any more. Trevy'd missed his nap. Missing naps seems to enhance the hyper in him. And I wasn't aware I'd need to pack lunches. All three of them were begging for food I didn’t bring.
Fun times.
Dr. Hematology sees me immediately upon my complaint. (which begs the question: where the HECK was he for the past hour and a half!?)
The kids ,of course, are bouncing off the walls. In full on ADHD mode Trevy is passionately banging the windows just to hear them shake in their tracks. Opening and slamming the door before I can race from stilling the windows to there and hold it closed. Or rifling through the drawers within his very curious reach. His sister is egging him on. And his big brother was no help at all with his nose buried in his DS. I’m sweating (literally) as I offer an apology. To which he responds:
Oh...don't worry. I have a three year old myself.
::pause::
I guess he's just a good kid.
Oh yes he did!!!!!!!!
Which only added to my frustration of basically having to guide the whole dang appointment too. He never asked me for a complete history. I forced it on him. He never asked if we had any family blood issues (which we do) I spoon fed him. If I weren't as persistent (despite my not as well-behaved as his kids) I don't think I would have learned anything. Nothing. I would have been sent home with 3 unhappy kids and shrug of white coated shoulders. I can't imagine how moms with less (pent-up anger and) dogged question asking skills would fair. I don't know about you. But I really don't have the spare energy in my engine to burn. It would be nice if there was some some form of communication classes for them to take. Because smarts and degrees on the wall aren't always the most important thing.
I like Aidan’s mom’s idea - which you can read here.
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It’s Your Lucky Day Bonus Story:
Dr. Blood sends us two doors down to vampire some red stuff outta Trevy’s arm for further testing.
Miss. Needle is there alone. I know Trevy and needles. Are all Seizure kids super hero strong for their size? So I ask if there might be someone available to help us. Miss. Needle gets highly offended. Apparently she does this every day, you know. On children much bigger and stronger than Trevy (with both hemispheres in their heads I’m guessing?). And has never needed help before.
I just stood there looking at her. Too exhausted to put up a fight at that point. But not budging either. I guess my facial made it clear on my position. So hi-ho hi-ho off to find help she goes.
Miss. Help is super nice. I like her.
Miss. Needle is still kinda tudy. Why on earth she’s offended is beyond me. Vindication was mine. Not only did she (predictably) miss his vein…but the three of us were sweating bullets by time we had wrangled two itty bitty vials from him. When it was all said and done I think she was on my team. She never actually said she was sorry. But her demeanor was apologetic. I figured I’d accept it. And of course…share the story on my blog. For the whole world wide web to read.
:: smile ::
Comments
...but especially the tropics :)
...danielle
I had to read that a couple of times to GET IT as it's just so shocking!
Oh..Miss Needle and all. Good grief, like that's what every mom and little fella needs. And yes, I do believe these little seizure creatures have super hero strength! That sweating bullets, weak in the knees from holding them down, drained energy exhaustion is so similiar to Bup after anything. Hmmm.....one would think I would be skinnier?!
I had the same thing happen with a blood draw before. I told the guy that we need someone else in here to help hold. At first, he said no one was availabe (we are in a flippin hospital and there is not ONE person that can help). But he eventually got someone. In which he still couldn't hit the vein. And then he got someone else who then got it in one poke. And then after it was all over...he said to me "next time you should explain to the person how difficult it is to draw blood from her". It took every ounce of me not to just kick him where it counts because me hitting him in the face would not have hurt enough.