Today is
always an anxiety producing day for me.
Usually, the days leading up to today are filled with fears and
what-ifs. I have tried very hard to
control my thoughts and direct any negative thoughts to positive ones, but it
is something that I have not mastered yet.
Today we
bring Jason for his nephrology appointment. A nephrologist is a doctor that
studies the renal functions. Jason was
born with a dysplastic kidney (one kidney), and due to the neuro-genetic components
of his syndrome, there is a chance he can develop kidney disease. So, every year we get his annual bloods and
get his annual ultrasound to monitor his kidney functions.
Marianne,
Shannon, and Kayla were all so kind to join me on this day of tests and results.
Jason, not to sound dramatic, is the
worst patient and performs much better with an audience, and I can always use
the physical help and emotional support.
We arrived
at LIJ at 8:40 am for a 9:00 appointment.
We meet with the nurse who tries to get Jason’s blood pressure with no
luck. I ask her for a copy of his recent
blood work and input and chart his BUN, creatinine, and WBC in my 3 in. ring
binder designated for Jason’s medical records.
His blood work looked good- (10 bricks were just released from me). His WBC was a little elevated, but most
likely due to him having a cold, and his calcium was a little high, but nothing
to concerning. The nurse then proceeds to tell me that he isn’t scheduled for
an ultrasound. I instantly get annoyed
because I have been preparing for this day for weeks and an ultrasound is one
of the important factors. Not to sound
better than anyone, but this nurse didn’t have her shit together. She called the doctor and the secretary to
try and fit us in for an ultrasound today as I explained to her that this appointment
is pointless without it. I also had to
ask her for a urine cup because as part of Jason’s routine visit, they need his
morning voids. Today is not the day for
ignorance. The doctor comes in and tells us that she will get us in for an ultrasound
today.
We arrive
across the street from LIJ Children’s hospital at 450 Lakeville Rd building
B. This is where we are sent to get
Jason’s renal ultrasound. The radiology
waiting room is packed with no seating, so we are told to sit on the other side
of the waiting room. The room was also
filled with people of all ages, male and female, and all different
nationalities. As we are waiting, Jason
is hanging out with the girls. He is
playing on Shannon’s tablet and walking to the water cooler to get a cup of
water. Shortly after about 30 minutes in
the waiting room this tall man approaches from behind me with a thick accent, I
think Russian. He is clearly aggravated and
starts speaking to me. He starts to say
that this is no place for noise that the man he is with has a brain injury and
I am an idiot for allowing my son to be there making noise. Unfortunately, I am completely shocked at the
way this man is speaking to me and start laughing hysterically. I don’t know why I started laughing, but I
think it was to distract myself so I didn’t flip out on him. Well, he didn’t like my response to his
rage. He continued to call me an “idiot…evil
idiot,” “not qualified to be a mother,” “you
should have a brain tumor,” “she is stupid, that mother probably doesn’t have
any education past elementary school,” “you
don’t know what it’s like to have a brain injury,” “the kid shouldn’t be here, he is not a
patient, he is a kid.” I didn’t say much
during his outburst. He went and
complained to a manager. He told them
that my son was making too much noise (completely false), I was laughing in his
face (true) and he wanted us moved. Everyone in the waiting room was in
shock. One man even moved his seat next
to us because he said he was ready to punch him in his face if he said something
else. The manager came over and told him that she cannot make us move because
we were doing nothing wrong, but she can move him to a private area. He refused at first and then finally
moved. The manager and security officer were
very apologetic. Even a few people in
the waiting room made comments that Jason was so quiet and that man was
crazy. With my nerves already out of
control, I started crying. Not typically
me. I knew the things this man said were
not true, but his words pierced me like a sword and his rage penetrated my core. I hated his words and rage, but there was something
familiar in his emotions.
Fifteen
minutes later, he approached me again.
He extended his hand and said, “I am so sorry. I can’t believe I said those things. I am just having a really hard time.” I extended my hand and squeezed his. I told him I appreciate his apology and that
it was ok. His eyes were teary, his
heart heavy, and his voice was shaky. My
heart softened. He came out a second
time to apologize again. My heart broke
as I could see his pain permeating from his eyes.
I am not
sharing this story so people would be enraged with how this man acted. We all know, including him that his behavior
was uncalled for. I am sharing this
story for a few reasons. Firstly, we
never know what someone else is going through. This goes for both of us. He assumed, my son was healthy and not a
patient. He assumed that I have no idea
what it is like to have or care for someone with a brain condition. He was mistakenly wrong and I assumed that
this man was just crazy and irrational.
Secondly, the one thing I love about myself is my compassion and empathy
and in this situation because I was emotionally exhausted myself, I didn’t
respond with compassion or empathy. My
ego kicked in and I became defensive.
What if when the man was on a rampage, I ignored his hurtful words and
hugged him? What if instead of laughing
I looked him in the eyes and said, “I am sorry for what you are going through.” If we just stop for a moment, step outside
our ego, we have the potential of showing compassion over anger and that is
more powerful than anything else.
Choosing compassion can change the world.
