In Another Country
It's been two years of bliss with Maximilian. It's also been two years of visits to doctors' offices, hospitals, a surgery, and lots of therapy. This is what I was pondering as I waited today for another doctor to see this beautiful boy of mine. We had been waiting for over 45 minutes when I realized how much of my time with Max has been doing much of the same.
This was not what I had in mind when I was pregnant. It's like I got on a plane headed to Italy landed in Africa. There's nothing wrong with Africa. But when you pack and plan for Italy and you end up in Africa, you are hardly prepared.
I sat on the plane in denial for awhile. I did not want to be in Africa. I wanted to be in Italy meeting the pope and eating pasta. The stewardess assured me that although what was outside was not what I had expected, it was certainly better than spending the rest of my days on the plane. And with a gentle shoved, I finally disembarked.
Of course, my first impression was that Africa is not anything at all like Italy. Everything is different - the language, the weather, the food, the terrain, the people, the sites - EVERYTHING. I was disappointed and scared. How was I going to survive?
Upon further inspection, I learned that Africa too, is beautiful. It has some hot weather and political unrest, but it also has beautiful grasslands, friendly people and amazing safaris. It's hard to focus on the heat and bugs when you're staring a lion in the face.
I've discovered that life here on this continent is not so bad after all. My guides have been amazing and taught me so much about this culture. They've even made me an honorary citizen. I'm finding that after some time and adjustments, I've learned to love this country.
This is where I was, in my open air jeep in the middle of the grasslands watching a lion club at play, when he morphed into Max sitting patiently on the floor of the exam room spinning his car in circles. Finally the doctor walked in.
After some inspection, he let me know that both of Max’s tubes had fallen out. He did a little maneuvering and out they came. “His ears look great. Looks like today saved you another 6 month check up. You’re free to go,” he calmly said.
“You mean that’s it? We don’t have to get more? We don’t have to come back?”
“That’s it,” he said with a smile. “If you ever need me again, you can call me.”
I walked out in disbelief that I can really check one doctor off the list. Neurologist, pediatrician, physical therapist, dentist – all still on the calendar. ENT – one giant check.
For the first time in two years I began to think I might actually make it on that plane to Italy after all. But until I do, I’m going to make the most out of my time left in this beautiful country I’m in.
2 Comments:
Amy, Your post reminded me of this poem called Welcome to Holland by Emily Perl Kingsley about being the parent of a special needs child. Perhaps you had it in mind when you wrote, but I wanted to send it in case you have not read it before. I am so excited every time I read of Max's progress. I know you are proud of him.
http://www.our-kids.org/Archives/Holland.html
I've never read it. Kind of eery isn't it.
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