April 24, 2012
This is what the last week has looked like for us. Sky's cough hasn't gotten any better, and Millie has been getting worse. High fevers, crying spells, and not much movement except from crib to couch to crib again- it's been a long several days. The more I thought about it, the more angry I felt. The doctor who had brushed Millie's illness of as a little cold had to have been joking.
Because of where we are financially, it's hard to find a doctor who will see us. Most would rather take a patient with good insurance that pays much and pays quickly. And often when we are seen, there is a definite difference in care- I can say this because I worked at the hospital before I had Millie, and know what goes on behind the scenes and what is said about people like us. And though I don't like to admit it, I can feel a chip on my shoulder start to form the moment I walk into the office, to be honest with you. It's frustrating.
And I found myself in tears tonight- that Millie's been sick this much, and that there hasn't been anything done about it. I was angry that x-rays hadn't been done or lab tests run. I wanted to call the doctor and tell them, "If it's just a little cold, you comfort her when she's listless or sobbing because she feels so miserable." I can't explain the feeling of wanting to protect your baby, but it's stronger than any feeling I've ever felt in my life.
As I was beginning to write this post, I turned the TV off, and it was it that moment that it actually sank in what I had just heard in the background.
I had been watching a show that was talking about life in the slums of India. It showed a family of five living in a single room smaller than Millie's bedroom. They all slept on the concrete floor, shared a makeshift "shower" (an un-lit closet and a bucket) and bathroom with the sixty some odd people living in their immediate area. They spent 1/3 of their $200 monthly paycheck just paying for their daughters' education. The father began to cry because he could not do all he wanted to do for his family. He was asked if he was happy. "Not happy," he said.
I'm going to take Millie back to the doctor tomorrow. I am going to ask for all the things that should have already been done but weren't. I'm going to tell them I'm worried. And yet, after seeing the piece on that family, I am going to ask for it much more gently than I planned to before. I will not ask out of entitlement.
God has a unbelievable way of putting things in perspective.