a thorn in his foot

I took my baby to the doctor today. to the very same doctor's office where this all began. just 3 weeks ago, I took my sweetie in to our pediatrician for an appointment. thinking I was being a conscientious parent and thinking she might have a bladder infection. Even the idea of a bladder infection was cautious, I thought. I didn't know a lot about bladder infections either.

Our baby had stepped on something about a week ago. I didn't see him to do it and don't know what it was. I just noticed it when I went to kiss his piggies. Everytime I change his diaper, I kiss his piggies and he expects it. so this time, when he kicked up his feet for me, I noticed a sore on the bottom of his foot. He looked too and declared "ow." He pointed to make sure I knew exactly what he was talking about. not the finger. not the elbow. but yes, indeed, the large sore on the bottom of his foot.

I watched it for a few days, hoping it would get better. but it didn't. I finally showed my mom again, who is the same person who originally suggested a bladder infection for our sweetie. well, mom, thought, yes indeed, it looked like he stepped on something, and yes, it should be looked at.

I felt like a war veteran suddenly having flash backs. should I pack an overnight bag for this doctor visit too? surely they were going to recommend surgery to remove the object. maybe they would say it was really infected and they might have to quick treat the infection before amputation. sounds crazy but I was told by two separate people how people they knew with diabetes ended up having their feet amputated. so it was on my mind. he doesn't have diabetes but people get feet amputated.

I already felt like a neglectful mother. How could I have let this go for a week? could I have saved his little foot?!? mind you, three weeks ago, a bladder infection equated diabetes and a rush to the hospital. so of course, thorn in foot equated amputation and local hospital stay, if lucky.

I thought about calling my husband now and having him start heading home from work to be ready for the fall out from the operation. my mom was going to babysit the other three kids and then she needed to pick up my niece from school. If I'm sent to the hospital again, we will need back up help!

As we were packing up toys to go to gramma's, it suddenly dawed on me that I was sending my diabetic daughter to my mom for an hour and a half. snack time is included in that hour and a half. my mom is still not versed on administering care to a 3 year old diabetic. I pack an extra bag of all of her medical supplies and snacks and journal and meter. If the amputation doesn't take long, I'll be back for lunch. (this reminds me of a Fraiser episode)

so we all head over to Gramma's. drop the excited kids off with their toys and then I proceed to the doctors. Our regular pediatrician is actually out this week so we had to see a family practitioner. someone I was not familiar with and she was not familiar with us. Our regular pediatrician knows our family really well and she is great. This other family practitioner was a stranger, at the moment.

I was proud of myself for getting to the doctors at 10 am. exactly on time. they recommend 15 minutes early but having successfully dropped off three kids, one being a diabetic and arrive with a baby and park and be standing in line at 10, I thought that was great success. well stranger doctor disagreed.

There was a line to be checked in. one gentlemen at the counter was taking an excessively long time to clarify when his next appointment was. I had my card ready. but we had to stand and wait. finally we were checked in and then told to sit and wait. then our name was called and I was taken into a room and then told to sit and wait. when the stranger doctor finally walked into the room, the first thing she said was "well, we are running a few minutes late, so this will have to be quick." I said, "yeah, they were able to squeeze me in for an appointment today, that was great! " and she replied while looking down at her clipboard, "well, we still need to be on time though, don't we?" in a quiet, higher pitched condescending tone of voice. wow. definitely don't care for this doctor.

so I showed her my son's foot and explain what happened. she says, "a week ago? what has changed now, that you decided to finally bring him in?" wow. I guess her credentials make up for her bed side manner. "well, it's not clearing up." I say. she looks and decides, yes there is probably something in there and yes, it looks infected and she writes a prescription for an antibiotic. and then she's gone. that's it. no amputation. no hospital stay. just some condescending remarks and a prescription. I'm more irritated then relieved by the way she has talked to me. doesn't she know who we are? I want to go find my chart and read it to her. I feel like Linus outraged by the skeptics of the Great Pumpkin. "we are a great family! we have endured a lot! This isn't my first child! I know I need to be on time! we just spent three nights in a hospital with a diabetic 3 year old! Did you hear me?!" But she's gone, on to another patient to chastise for taking up her time with ailments and thorns in their foots.

As I emerge from the room, I leave enemy territory and spot our faithful nurse that explained to me what an endocrinologist was during that fateful check up. She asked me how our sweetie is doing and what ended up happening. Then I showed her our baby's foot and she sympathized and was glad to see us. Then I walked down the hallway and saw the other nurse that I had sat next to when I had to make that dreaded phone call to my husband. When I had been given five minutes to regroup and decide what to do about my dead cell phone and how I was to get our daughter to the Woodland Hills hospital as fast as possible. my daughter had sat on the floor next to my feet. she was playing with something on the floor, quietly awaiting her fate, while I sobbed on the phone trying to tell my husband what was happening. "not bladder infection...diabetes...hospital, now...must go...what do I do...help!!" The nurse sat at her computer listening to me. when I hung up, she asked what was going on and sympathized. I asked if she could watch my daughter so I could go to the bathroom and die, throw up, pass out, hide. I don't know. I had just wanted to wake up from that terrible moment. that nightmare.

so now, I was standing there with my baby and his injured foot. my daughter was safe with my mom and healthy. the nurse joked with me that indeed my baby didn't need an amputation and thank goodness this visit did not require a hospital stay in Los Angeles. She was there in that moment, when the world had stopped. She saw my courage and then my release. She saw the battle that I was caught in the middle of. She knew me and cared.

I glimpsed the new stranger doctor turning a corner and enter another patient's room. thank goodness she was not our regular pediatrician. we ARE fortunate to have the doctor we do and even our new specialist that I call everyday to strategize with. When my other daughter had broken her leg, three years ago now, I had called ahead to our doctor and she prepared the staff for our arrival. she did x rays immediately, determined a break and arranged an ambulance to the hospital. she then called several times later to make sure we were okay. she did the same thing this time with diabetes. we received several phone calls from her while we were in the hospital to just make sure we were okay. maybe we are spoiled. just a little.

my son and I headed off to the pharmacy and picked up his prescription. we even enjoyed picking out some fresh fruit at Lassen's while we waited for our prescription to be ready. I enjoyed my time with just my baby. something I don't get very often. with so many kids under the age of 7 now. I don't get a lot of one on one time with them. that was the best part of being in the hospital with our sweetie. I spent hours sitting with her in at her bedside making paper dolls and recreating our house in ink on paper. we also toured our floor many times looking for our nurse and that newborn baby we saw earlier. Even though our alone time is created by a crisis, major or minor, I still am thankful for that time.

For eleven years, I had an only child. I had never planned to have an only child but that's what God had given us. At long last we had another child that we had prayed for, for many years. Her name means "God has heard our prayers". When I had prayed and prayed and prayed, I remember sitting one day, on my couch, reading my Bible, and God speaking to me through a passage about "the floodgates of heaven opening wide" well, they did. four children later! and the amazing thing is with our 17 year old, we haven't had one trauma with her. no broken bones, hospital stays, she was only famous for running a really high fever with no symptoms. she first had this illness in India and then here in America too. a fever of 106 yet hardly any symptoms. that was it. weird and scary at the time. I thought the thermometer was broken, I went out and bought a new one. But she recovered from what the doctor dubbed "a strange virus."

God has led us through many paths and trials. The good news is; for now, there is peace. all of the kids are in bed. almost all are asleep, snuggled in. all medicines are administered. blankies are located, except for one, and all is well.

all is well with my soul.