I am a writer, so by nature I am an emotional person. There is an endless list of famous writers that were well-known alcoholics, drug users, etc. I tend to think it was a way to escape their emotional drama of life.
Of course their writing was their main way of dealing with that emotion, but sometimes that emotion is just too much to calm with a simple poem or story.
I find myself there today. My mind is like a fog yearning to find calmness. Today was a day that for a brief second my heart stopped and my legs grew weak.
It was one of those days as a mother, emotional drama queen and just as a woman that made me just sit and cry. You know the type of cry that you hold in so long that it just has to let itself out or you might explode.
Everything gets turned upside down so fast. The stresses of today build up until it gets to where the body cannot accept anymore. Today was that day.
Of course every sad song begins with the stress of money as we wait for our paycheck after unexpected expenses. But even with all the money issues at the forefront, it took one doctor visit to throw them all out and realize that your life could change in an instant.
I had made an appointment for my daughter today to see the doctor. I made the appointment last week with the assumption that the doctor would say that my sweet little three-year-old had some sort of nutrition problem. See her only symptom was that she would turn this eerie looking pale color throughout the day. Me, being the overprotective mom, thought I was imagining it. Then, of course, others started commenting on it so I made the appointment.
Assuming it was maybe something diet related, I phone the doctor to see if I should make an appointment. I was so unconcerned that when my son started running fever this week, I considered giving up her appointment to him if there were no openings. Luckily, they agreed to see them both at the same time.
So the doctor enters the room with a resounding, "Congratulations, you have strep throat!" Our doctor has a great sense of humor. We don't pay extra for that. My son was already diagnosed and he began asking about my daughter.
He gets this concerned look on his face and begins feeling all over for "lymph nodes." It does not dawn on me the reason why. He tells me that he wants to check her blood work again despite just having it done two weeks ago at a well child check-up. He tells me also wants to check for mono, explaining that there is no way she could have contracted the virus again.
The doctor comes back with a giant smile, ecstatic with the results. He explains that it is mono still. I sit confused as to how he could be happy with the diagnosis since it has been ten weeks since she first contracted the virus.
Then he said the word that made everything flash and my life difficulties seem so pointless. "I was worried it was c-a-n-c-e-r (he spelled it out)."
Everything that happened next was a blur. My heart stopped. My life with my child passed through my eyes. Was it possible that a three-year-old could have the "C" word? Why did I not put two and two together before the blood work that that was what he was looking for with the tests and feeling of her?
I sat in shock as he explained the next steps since the mono was still in her body. More blood would need to be taken because of blah, blah and a possible referral to an infectious disease doctor may need to be written.
So about that "C" thing, I look at him? "We have nothing to worry about-her red blood count is extremely healthy. I think we are safe to say that will never be an issue."
Still in shock, I help hold down my daughter as they pull more blood for testing. She never cries. Isn't it funny that she, the sick, petite one, never cries? It is all I can do to hold it in until I get home and can hide in my room to cry. Her brother, the big brother, asks to sit outside because he didn't want to see his little sister poked. But not her, she just lies down and takes it. The nurses comment how strong and brave she is and I wish I had some of her confidence.
I have had this fear since her birth that something would happen to her. My mind quickly goes back to the fear and our life together. She was a miracle, with doctors shocked she survived the pregnancy at all. She spent 10 days in the NICU and never had any complications. Born at 4.5 pounds, I never held her but instead stuck a finger through the incubator before they transported her to the closest hospital with a NICU.
When the doctor spelled out that word, all those fears came back and I felt myself needing to do the only thing I could do: cry.
I can never imagine what those parents with terminally ill children go through. After today, I never want to find out. My heart and prayers go out to those parents. As for my daughter, I too am finding happiness with the doctor's diagnosis. As I await the results and next steps, I am happy to know that it was only mono.
tweet this!
