Tuesday, March 30, 2010
When Doctors Disappoint (Or, Maybe Aunt Lizzie Was Right)
It started around Christmas, maybe earlier, I don't know, when Boo developed this hacking sort of cough whenever he would play the Wii. It would seize hold of his chest muscles, and he'd erupt with this loud "heeeehhh!" Just once and that would be it ... and then, no lie, 10 seconds later it would happen again. Over and over and over again.
This can't be good, we thought, so like any decent parents, we took him to the pediatrician ... who pretty much advised us to ignore it. A nervous habit, maybe a tic, something called exercise-induced asthma ... pick a diagnosis, any diagnosis! Chest sounded clear, breathing seemed ok, nothing to worry about.
Still, this continued into this decade, and on and on ... so I made an appointment for today with our ENT at the Big Children's Hospital in the City about two hours away from us in rush hour traffic, which is what one always must travel through to get to Big Children's Hospital in the City because one needs to get the first available appointment with Dr. ENT. So, through the pounding rains, Boo and I set off this morning in the dark at 6:30 a.m. and made it with 10 minutes to spare before our 8:20 a.m. appointment.
An hour later, I was pulling out of our parking spot. Suffice it to say, Dr. ENT (who we generally really like, which is why I'm incurring the out-of-network insurance charges to take my son to him at Big Children's Hospital) was even less concerned than the pediatrician. We left his office with no more than a "nothing we can really do, just follow up with your pediatrician, see you in 6 months" nod and a handshake. Meanwhile, I get to live with this barking seal like sound every 10 seconds when my kid is playing the Wii (which I'm not inclined to have him give up because a) it is something he's good at and b) it is exercise on crappy weather days like this).
I hate to say this, but this is happening more and more often with my interactions with the medical establishment. There's this indifference, this unspoken notion that I'm wasting their precious time (as if my remaining 5 vacation days and the 1/2 tank of gas it took to get to Big Children's Hospital aren't precious enough). I don't always have the greatest of faith in medical professionals, and today only reinforced that mindset of mine. The Husband and I differ on this dramatically. Whereas I will go weeks and months without refilling prescriptions, years without checkups (I mentioned to him last night that I think I need my eyes checked as it has been 7 years since my last prescription), he is vigilant about this stuff. (I should clarify that I am only lax on this in regard to myself, not my kids.)
This was kind of my mom's Aunt Lizzie's approach to medical matters. I never knew her, but from the stories handed down, Aunt Lizzie was a deeply religious woman who believed that all things could be healed with prayer and some old-fashioned homemade country cooking, be it soup or shoo-fly-pie or whatever, or an uplifting letter to a friend who was ailing. No doctors or hospitals or medications for her, thank you.
So I was thinking about Aunt Lizzie as I drove back home. Maybe there's something to be said about her approach, a trust in either one's instincts or a higher power. Blame it on the rainy weather, blame it on other factors going on in my life, and I'm beginning to question my ability to trust my own path, to successfully advocate for my kid. (The nurse practitioner - who looked to be all about 11 years old - looked at me aghast when I mentioned Boo received zero services, despite being on the autism spectrum. "In our state, he's not delayed enough," I said, as Boo folded himself into thirds and attempted to do a forward roll off the office chair.)
Back home, I found my solace in Facebook and all my mom friends with medical degrees from the School of Real Life chimed in as I threw myself a pity party. One emailed to say that her son has the same exact condition, and that her pediatrician has said the exact same thing. "It's hard to listen to," my friend emailed, about her son's identical coughing.
She made me feel better than any visit to a specialist could have done. She listened, she understood. She made me feel like a decent mom.
And if she lived closer, I probably would have invited her over this afternoon for pie.
photo taken of Boo at the Storybook Ball (hence, the Superman costume he's wearing) at the Please Touch Museum in Philadelphia. He's playing in the Emergency Room exhibit of the children's museum, pretending to look at x-rays.
copyright 2010, Melissa (Betty and Boo's Mommy, The Betty and Boo Chronicles) If you are reading this on a blog or website other than The Betty and Boo Chronicles or via a feedreader, this content has been stolen and used without permission.