…we’ve made four trips to the E.R. – one in September for Miss Attitude’s sprained ankle, and three in this month alone: two visits – two weeks apart – to the local E.R. for Deputy Dad’s kidney stone troubles (documented here and here), and one to the E.R. in [larger town an hour away, where we go for shopping and doctor visits] for Miss Attitude’s chest x-ray, which confirmed her pneumonia diagnosis.
In the last two months, we’ve made seven trips to the pediatrician’s office (in [larger town]) and one trip (this afternoon) to Miss Attitude’s pediatric pulmonologist.
Also in the last two months, we’ve filled seventeen prescriptions for the kids (2 for The Drama Queen, 3 for SuperBoy, 12 for Miss Attitude (a.k.a. Princess Asthma)) and six prescriptions for Deputy Dad and his stoned kidneys.
At this point, I’m about as drained as my bank account is.
Standing in the pulmonologist’s office this afternoon, I perused the pictures of pediatric patients filling the bulletin board behind the front desk. At first glance, it was a collage of smiling children. As I studied it closer, though, I noticed several children with obvious signs of Down’s Syndrome. Some of those children – and a few others – were also living with tracheotomies, drawing each breath through a tube in their necks. I saw other children whose growth had been adversely affected from a lifetime of respiratory steroid use.
As we were waiting our turn to see the pulmonologist, two children (from two different families) came out of the exam rooms in wheelchairs; both had tracheotomies, both were severely handicapped.
One more inspection of the bulletin board, and I noticed a newspaper clipping. Oh, I thought, one of the patients must have made the news, participating in a school or community function. I was instantly nauseated when I realized the clipping was an obituary notice. A young girl – fourteen years old – had lost a battle with cancer. I thought about that girl, about her parents, her family.
It’s so easy to feel so discouraged, so burdened, so…overwhelmed when the kids have been sick and the husband’s been sick and things just aren’t going well at all. But…my GOSH, how very blessed I am.
Yes, Miss Attitude has asthma. But it’s treatable. And she’s never been hospitalized for it (knock on wood). And her pediatrician and pulmonologist work together (with us) to take excellent care of her.
Yes, SuperBoy has a speech delay. But we’re getting help for that NOW, rather than waiting until he’s in school. And yes, the progress is so. very. slow. But, still. It’s progress. And even though he doesn’t say a lot of words, he communicates very well, and his comprehension is excellent. And he’s smart as a whip, that little guy.
And Deputy Dad’s kidney stones are treatable. And we’re dealing with The Drama Queen’s Issues (which I don’t blog about, but still. They are there. The Issues.). And even though we’re flat broke, we have so much more than so many others.
It occurs to me now that this entry may not be making much sense, so I’ll try to sum it up…
What I really mean to say is this: Suddenly, today, I remember how very lucky – how very blessed – I am. And I just wanted to share that with you.