This morning I went on a trail of calls, to figure out where to make a pediatric orthopedic appointment.
The COVID pandemic has caused chaos in the system. Surprisingly though, we managed to easily book an appointment today (a new necessary step in visiting any hospital given the pandemic) we arrived on time and saw the doctor right away.
There were multiple check points, some evident, some less clear. I’m not a hospital goer so I don’t know the drill. We registered twice. I needed to register again. Did that too.
The doctor who was short at first, because I missed that last registration, turned out to be kind and spoke slowly and clear.
I went in with my eldest. Her scoliosis was confirmed. She needs a corset. I’m on a hunt to get one in the next few weeks. Jackie asked a lot of questions, there, and then as she pondered more, she cried. She said she doesn’t want to wear one. The doctor didn’t make it sound bad. I didn’t act nervous nor overwhelmed because I did a lot of research and half expected this as part of the solution.
He saw our youngest daughter too. She is prone to similar spine development so we are going to go to physical therapy with both girls. This is the gift of both girls sharing similar genetics. I see it as a gift.
I have four documents from the doctor and more appointment to handle the weeks to come.
Conrad said this morning, as I was overwhelmed by worry (I imagined something worse) that we willingly signed up to worry for our daughters, to fight for their wellbeing and health, to go all the extra miles to help them develop.
Somehow, taking them to these medical appointment, necessary ones, is a testament of love, and we bond with them. We do what needs to be done, but I sense a stronger attachment from their part. Maybe it’s mutual. Like that saying, when you serve another you invest yourself in them and thus love them more because you are part of them.
Going to therapy, getting X-rays, ordering the corset, and cheerleading her along..: it’s not anyone’s fault. It is what it is. And we are going through it together.
Jackie’s concerns were related to her ability to play sports during this season of wearing that corset. She runs, bikes, scoots, hikes. She is one of the most athletic kids I know. At least swimming seems to be part of the therapy. She may spend hours at the pool with me. I’m committed to making wearing this corset fun, and cool. Helping my eldest to embrace the discomfort, I hope I’ll speak hope and a unique perspective on the subject.
Ivy has a slew of cavities. More than half of her teeth are affected. Some less, one molar is very degraded. But as Conrad says, “these are trial teeth”. We need to fix and keep them healthy for another 3-4 years.
She is a trooper. And doesn’t mind the drilling. There is no insurance for dentistry. But I know how important is the health of one’s teeth for the overall comfort and wellbeing.
My mind is constantly racing. Both girls compete in talking to me. So far so good, but I know I won’t be able to keep this up forever. We ought to set healthy boundaries while everybody is still having fun, including myself.
They are silly and like to have fun, goofing around, especially at night.
Bedtimes are dragged on. I used to stay with them and asked them to settle down every other giggle, comment, dropped toy, question etc. But my own nagging was so taxing on me. They fell asleep faster as I encouraged them to close their eyes and take deep breaths. But was it worth it?
Ivy wanted me to stay with her for a while, snuggled in her bed, to sing her songs. Now she wants to whisper with Jackie. At least they are on the same page.
Today Evelyn prayed at dinner:
“Our Father who are in Heaven
Come to us. Come. Come to the table.
Holy be your name. Thank you for mommy and sister. Thank you for Daddy.
For this home. For this food. Thank you for I’m here. Thank you for taking care of me. Amin”