Probably it won’t be the last old uninviting building I have to wander through, ping pong style.
But one can hope…
These days are split like this: 5 hours driving, 4 hours at the hospital, 2 hours nap, 5 hours reading, playing, eating, walking Rufus.
Friday we learned we need one more medical document for Jaclyn, which can be issued by one office only. So you would think that they would easily know what “medical certificate for the adoption of a child” means.
After her nap we played a little and went to the said office which closes at 9. As we arrive, and she starts crying on the pathway leading to the building, we enter and the guard treats us very rudely. Nobody in sight. He asks me to state my business. I say I am looking to talk with the pediatrician who’s scheduled to work till 9 pm. He sends me to the information desk and the lady there informs me that the cashier (who seems to be the central point of the hospital) closes her window at 3 pm so there is nothing we can do. Come back Monday. I am exhausted. We are about to do the drive back to the mountains with Jaclyn, and we have yet another setback.
Monday rolls in, and we go back to the hospital, now brimming with people, old and young, most of them with a lost/sad look in their eyes. In contrast, the medical staff strolls around like they own the place.
I go the the cashiers’ window. I wait in line and when my turn comes I tell her I want to pay for a medical certificate. She says, well, you have to go first talk to the pediatrician around the corner. Three pediatricians work in the hospital, yet nobody was working that morning. The one who deals with this paper usually, was on vacation. The other two came in for the afternoon shift at 2 pm. Though we left home at 9, by now it was past 11. We decided we needed answers so we found stuff to do in town till 2 pm. I call the number on the pediatrician’s door and I ask to make an appointment. She tells me to go to the main window with the child’s birth certificate and they will start a file for me. As I try to do that at 1:30, I am sent from window to window three times, everybody very brusk with me, and I end up waiting in front of the doctors office anyway, stomach in a knot, to get some definite answers. There are people ahead of us. We finally go in. The very calm doctor knows what I’m talking about and we proceed to look at each medical file I brought. Then she stops and says. “Oh, hep c test hasn’t been done. You need to bring the girl in tomorrow to draw blood.” At this my heart sinks. I ask “how long until we get the result?” this is the last paper we need in order to file with the court and bring our daughter home. She answers “Thursday”. So one more week goes by until we could finally file with the court.
Also, this test, which is free for insured people and children, and we had a paper requesting it, we left it at a different medical office, so the nice doctor says: “It’s ok. You pay. It’s not much. 200 lei”. I love it when people make plans with our money, and they assess what we can afford and what is trivial expense… just because my husband is American. And if we went this far to adopt a child, means we are wealthy, or at least silly generous.
It is now Tuesday morning. I couldn’t sleep well, processing yesterday’s events and anticipating the emotionally charged day today. God help us all. It does feel like the hardest day we had to deal with yet, having to fast (not us, but Jaclyn) drive for an hour to Cluj, and then go directly to the hospital to be poked and probed.
I am discouraged by the system… yet again. I look forward to not having to deal with them papers and unnecessary doctor appointments for a while.
—
I wrote the above ramble just before heading into the mountains to pick our daughter up and bring her to the hospital. This time we said nothing about what’s ahead. We sang in the car and proceeded as usual with drive.
The hospital experience, though very long and tedious, with piles of papers, and payments and doors to wait in front of… we kept reassuring Jaclyn that we are not going anywhere. That we will hold her tight and nothing bad will happen. She was yet again brave and determined. She charmed the hospital staff, and asked different doctors what their name was. Occasionally she would ask “who is crying?” and “why is he/she crying?”
We were done in 3 hours.
I am still very tense. My brain and my body both worked extra hard today.
And yet, the day flew by and tonight we have to drive back again. As I was telling mom via skype last night, I bet there will come a time when the idea of dropping her off somewhere safe where is is well taken care off, would sound ideal. But for now, we long to have her home full time.
Before the night was done, Jaclyn visited her bunica and bunicu, who just returned from a long trip, and then her cousin Luca and his parents came for a lovely evening together to meet her. Jaclyn shares the blue eyes with her uncle Dan.
