Here is the second of four excerpts of the book “Prescription For Disaster: The Funny Side Of Falling Apart” by Candace Lafluer which I recently reviewed here. Candace has graciously agreed to post some excerpts for our reading enjoyment. I'm sure you will enjoy it as much as I did.
“Eye Hospital Family Affair”
In an attempt to give my husband a much needed break (and to spend a bit more time with my girls on my own), I brought the twins with me to the eye hospital one afternoon. I know, who purposely brings two three year olds to a crowded hospital for an afternoon, how fun, right? Well, I had my reasons.
I walked in for my appointment to an overcrowded waiting room full of patients a good 30 years my senior. Not an empty seat to be seen and certainly nobody else with young kids. Nevertheless, the girls sat there, content in their large double stroller to quietly chat to each other and smile at the people in the room. When they got a bit restless I whipped out their iPads and they literally sat there for hours, munching grapes and playing quietly in the buggy while I sat next to them, jumping up to move the giant stroller whenever someone needed to get by.
Finally my name was called and in we went, buggy and all. The ophthalmologist, a young, friendly woman, had been reading through my very large file and asked me about my eyes, how I was feeling and about my sarcoidosis in general as she hadn't ever experienced a case this severe before. She asked me if there had been any significant changes in my condition or treatment since they had seen me eight months ago.
I told her that I had been hospitalized four times for about ten days each round, about the Bell's Palsy and the scarring in my eyes. I told her about the chemotherapy and the failure of my previous drugs. When she asked about my thyroid and when my blood was last taken I told her about the steroid weight gain and that my blood is tested every two weeks, if not more.
She looked at me with sad eyes and said I had certainly been through the ringer in such a short time. Then I told her about my stroke. She eyed me up and down and commented that it must have been some time ago, I seem so well recovered. I told her it was less than two months ago but that it's fine, I'm fortunate in other ways and we all have to get on with life regardless.
She then looked at the twins and told me that the other doctors and nurses back there had been commenting on them as nobody could believe that two kids of this age had been waiting so patiently, calmly and quietly in the overcrowded waiting room for nearly four hours without making a single fuss. I was of course very proud of the girls and told them so – my kids are wonderful and so sweet. (but the iPads and lack of processed sugar really helps!) She commended me on my upbeat attitude about my health, despite things being so severe and dramatic – all the while taking care of young twins, too – she couldn't imagine how I manage it.
I corrected her that my husband takes care of the girls and I, that this was a rare afternoon that I could have the girls to myself. She was shocked, and asked me why I would bring my children to an appointment like this, knowing that they would be stuck in a waiting room and seeing doctors and things like this if I didn't absolutely have to bring them with me.
I smiled and told her that I'm unfortunately in the hospital a lot and for our family, this is our new normal. I brought the twins because I want them to know that their mum in the hospital is totally fine, and that this is nothing to be afraid of, it's just a small but ever present part of our family, that it's okay. My girls both looked up at me right at that moment and told me that I was okay, and that I was “doing a good job, mum, don't worry.”
That poor doctor welled up with tears and excused herself from our cubicle – I could hear her telling our story to her colleagues right then and there who came over to meet the girls and give me a smile. Two nurses even came over with lollies for the girls and chatted with them about their iPad games while my eyes were checked.
I may be a ridiculously unlucky person riddled with faults and disease, but I wouldn't trade my life for anyone else's. I'm fortunate in too many ways to count, and that's what gets me through this.
I hope that you enjoyed that as much as I did, and am sure that you are anxious to go now and get your own copy for your Kindle reader. Just click here to be taken to the Amazon web site where you can download your copy, and if you would prefer a printed copy, click here.
Please be sure to leave a comment so that Candace can know what you though of her story.