We had another doctor’s appointment way back in the early years. This time there were 3 ¾ of us for that appointment; obviously my husband, myself, since I was the driver, our toddler in her pretty Christmas dress and our almost- ready- to- come- out- into- the- world son .
We understood a new crazy ride was about to begin since we were meeting a neuro-surgeon because of my husband’s worsening epileptic seizures.
As the wife, I figured I better make us really cute, not too cute but Hallmark cute.
As the doctor came out, he saw his patient, this hugely pregnant woman, who stuck out her tummy just a little for emphasis, and a cute blond little one wearing her special Christmas dress from a beloved great aunt.
He asked us to follow.
We walked into an examining room and sat for the consultation. The Doctor sat and began talking to us. We were listening intensely.
He got up. He reached behind us for a rubber glove.
Both my husband and I were perplexed. What is the brain surgeon expecting to examine in front of the family?
He put the glove to his mouth. He blew in it. He tied the end. He handed it to our toddler.
Such an act of kindness. So moving.
Maybe it was the baby hormones and the husband being put on a fast track to his second brain surgery, but I was moved by the consideration Dr. Leblanc had for this little one. It was such a clear message that we should keep her needs in mind and the needs of the monster-within who should make his appearance before the upcoming surgery.
Dr. Leblanc included her at the level she was. He also found a lovely easy way to have her play with something available.
Maybe it was in our instinct to have the children included. The little one was 17 months old and we had brought her to the appointment. In reality, with both of us working full-time, we had the little one with us as much as we could.
I am a great believer in this is our life so deal with the cards you were dealt with. Play them to the best of your abilities. Dr. Leblanc gave us a good card. He dedramatized the situation and showed the availability of play in an unlikely situation and place.
As the children grew into hospital rats, they have been able to entertain themselves, play and even work when we were not in an emergency or dire situation.
Now almost 21 years later, I still get teary-eyed in remembering that day. I am so grateful. Maybe I can still blame the hormones…
Thank you, Dr. Leblanc. Merci.
Please join me next week with “what people can handle and handling people ».
I would love to hear from you if you wish to leave a comment or start a conversation.
Feel free to share this entry or the blog in hopes it lands on someone’s desk who may be feeling alone on their own crazy ride through a medical situation.