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Another trip to the ER

Little T woke up screaming last night with a fever of 102. C had some problems with his Broviac the day before, so he called the hematologist on call who told us to take Little T to the ER. I stayed home, because it was 2am and K was fast asleep. Sadly we've been there a few times, so one of the residents recognised Little T. When they first took his temperature, it was 104. Yet it took them two hours just to draw his blood to see if he had an infection. Fortunately his white blood cell count was normal, so he probably just has a viral infection. Three hours later he was sent home. I'm sure the ER folks did their best. It's not their fault that our health care system is so broken that the ER is the only health care you can get at night.

I had to take him to the Hematology clinic today, so I cancelled K's playdate with one of her preschool friends.

As I drove there, I found myself getting angry at the gods. I had just started to relax about T's medical issues. I'd start to feel he didn't need my vigilance, because he was getting better. I started focusing on other things like his therapy, his feeding and my writing. And like a kick in the gut we have to go to the ER again.

It's not fair, I want to say. But then life isn't fair. I told myself the ways that life isn't fair that favour me. Like the fact that we have good insurance with no lifetime limit. The fact that his hospital is within easy driving distance. And we can afford a house in this area. We have one healthy child. And somehow C and I manage to get through most of this by supporting each other and continuing to build the foundation of our relationship, instead of chipping away at it.

I realise part of my anger stems from the fear that by focusing on my writing I somehow created this problem. Then another voice, a very sardonic voice says "Well, Thida your life has always been busy with a flair for the dramatic." And a thought flits by that perhaps if I created more drama with my writing, say by actually publishing something, it might crowd out T's medical drama. It makes as much sense as my fear. So I'm going with it.

As soon as we got to the clinic, he started looking better. Maybe he just missed his angel doctor. She examined him throughly and even cleaned his ears. She took a throat culture and ordered another blood culture. He screamed throughout then fell asleep and has been sleeping most of the time since. In fact he's sleeping on me now.

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