Unveiling the Present

The long awaited appt. with this doctor finally came. I had Tesh on my lap, and he walked through the door, this older man from India, sat in front of me and one of the first things out of his mouth was, " What was her birth weight? " I answered, " 6lbs. 5oz." He then asked, " What is her weight now?" I answered, " 10lbs. 13oz." Shaking his head, he said with a serious tone, "She's gained 4 lbs. in 4 months. .... That is not good."
He went on to explain to me the diagnosis that we already knew about her head, and declared that she, indeed, needed surgery. BUT he can not touch her right now. He said, "I can't go into a baby like this. We call these babies "failure to thrive"." My face felt a little numb as I was trying to swallow that word, once again. That took me back, but he continued, "She needs surgery, but I can't and won't do it until she is well. Do you know WHY she is not gaining weight?"
My answers seemed so weak, but I gave him all that I knew. I found myself stumbling over my answers realizing what weak statements they were, " well....... they think that there might be a milk protein allergy.... she's on acid reflux med...." As I'm saying all these things, he's shaking his head, seemingly becoming more disappointed. He looked upset. He interrupted my ramblings about her health with, " WHO is THEY?" I answered him, " My Ped. and the GI specialist." Shakes his head again. As a father instructs his child, he said very seriously, " They need to get to the bottom of this. They need to figure out what is going on, why she won't gain adequate weight."
I went on saying that I've been feeling like they haven't been listening to me, and that I have theories, but they seem reluctant to try them out or test for them. He's shaking his head again, and then stands, " Do you know who I am? I am a neurologist. I am a professor of neurology. I've done....." and he went on about how many surgeries he's done, and how many of that were infants. and then concluded it with, " I am the one they all go to, I am it. THEY will listen to ME. I'm going to talk with these doctors, and make them get to the bottom of this. She needs surgery, but I can't do it with her in this state. They need to fix it, and if they can't, she will come here to get it done, and see the doctors here. " All I could say to that....... "ok"
I did ask him a couple questions about the actual surgery, but I almost felt I was getting off topic. It was a short-lived appt. and not what I was expecting.
I was expecting some productive consult about what surgery and when, and preparation, But what I got was a different form of productivity, which took me a little bit to see it that way.

He was the only Doctor that was standing up for little Tesh. He took the veil over my eyes, that the docs. back home put on me with words like" she's fine" " keep doing what you are doing", he lifted it up from my face.
This forced me to look at my daughter once more, and then I thought, " What am I doing??" He fueled the fire that, in my heart, was fading like embers. I was fighting back tears.

He felt around at Tesh's head, reassuring me of some flex with the metopic (forehead) suture, which made me feel better about the future for that issue. She started pouting at him, as he felt around explaining what was wrong about her head, and why. But then he instantly, turned into "Papa mode" and said to her with the sweetest voice, " Oh no, sweetie, I'm not talking about you. You are beautiful! It's ok, I'm going to fix this head of yours." It put a smile to my face, but I don't think Tesh was buying it. :)

He left shortly after that, with instructions to do whatever we have to do to get to the bottom of this, and that he'll see us back in 6 weeks, and see how she's doing then. April 9 is when we return for "take 2" and hopefully this mama can move this mountain with God's strength that He's so willing to bestow me with.

When we left that hospital, walking into the parking lot, packing everything back into the van, tears started slowly coming down from my eyes. I looked at sleeping little Tesh in her carseat, and my heart broke. We left there feeling very uneasy, not necessarily about the surgery, which there was, to some degree, disappointment. But we were trying to digest the seriousness of her present state, and that it's keeping her from a surgery that may save her life.

I was angry. I began wailing angry tears almost the whole car ride home. I was angry with the docs. back home, I was angry at myself for not pushing harder. I knew something was still wrong, and yet I sat in that feeling, becoming numb to what I ought to have done. My flame was burning now, and I was getting ready to forgive myself, and move onto what I needed to do now.
As I had moments of calmness, we watched the sunset, homeward bound. I was comforted by it's beauty, and remembered that as the sun sets, it will rise again. Of course, I went back and forth from crying, madness, and fighting depression, but as the sun, it still sets again, and rises again, so my life shall be on this earth.

Which is better....... to watch the sun rise or the sun set? They both look the same, but take on different passions. There is hope in sun set, because all the days trials are finally coming to a close, and there is rest. For there is joy in the sun rise, for a new day has been given and you are awake!

Isaiah 45:6 "That men may know from the rising to the setting of the sun that there is no one besides Me. I am the Lord, and there is no other. "