Doctors On Super Bowl Sunday

I knew around 3 a.m. that my Sunday was going to be a long day. I knew because here I was again rocking my toddler who was congested yet again. Unfortunately, this has not been a good year when it comes to illnesses, and at this point nothing has been decided or ruled out. It might be we just had one virus after the other, coupled with ear infections, and lingering fevers, but as a mom I fear it maybe more.

Of course everyone provides their input and I listen. I answer politely but the pit in my stomach still grows with every illness. However, I am finally getting answers, real answers, yet none of them are going to be helpful at 3am. So, I did all the things I know how to do, I turned the shower on and sat in the steam, I gave medicine, I soothed, and I waited until the rest of the world was awake.

My toddler was seen at Urgent Care and provided with the appropriate care, however her symptoms did not subside. So, I called Urgent Care back to ask if this was normal, but no one was available and I began to panic.

However, I am fortunate that my daughter’s doctor is someone who makes herself available so I called, and her phone rang. I could tell when she answered she was in the car, and I imagine her children were with her. I imagine they were heading to a Super Bowl Party like the rest of the world, so I apologized.

I described my night, early morning visit to Urgent Care, and then she spoke. She provided me with reassurance, advice, explanations as to what was happening, she asked questions, and the list goes on.

After I hung up the phone, I felt horrible for calling on a Sunday, yet again. I tried to think of ways to say thank you. I thought about sending flowers, but at this point I have sent things. I thought about sending a text message apologizing but then I realized I do not know that there is anything that I can truly say to make her understand how appreciative I am.

Because in reality without my daughter I would be lost, I would not know love to the degree I do. I would not enjoy the simple things in life, and I would still be the mediocre version of myself I used to be.

Really what I want to say is thank you for helping me know I do not have to do everything correctly. Thank you for always listening, for truly hearing me. I want to thank her for wanting to know my daughter, for treating her beyond what she physically sees. I want to thank her for allowing me to call when I know the office is closed, and she is trying to be present with her family. I want to thank her for not rushing me out of the door, but allowing me to linger as I gather not only my belongings but my thoughts. I want to thank her for caring, because it is not until you have those nights where you pace the hallway, or rock rivets into the floor that you realize not many people have the time to care anymore. So to my daughter’s doctor who continuously picks up the telephone on Sundays, thank you.