First it was Lilly with a huge fever, then TJ and I both coughs colds right when he returned home, and now almost ten days since Caleb had a fever, his cough has grown stronger and today we made a trip to the doctor...bronchitis it is!!
In the midst of all of this coughing, wheezing, and flegm {bleck} there have been a few incredible moments just from today that I wanted to take note of.
First of all, going to the doctor is tough for Caleb. It's all incredibly overwhelming, unpredictable, invasive, and an assault on his senses {not to mention he's sick, so times all of that by one thousand}. I've always enjoyed our pediatrician's office, but they have four doctors in the practice and must see a ton of kids every day. I don't ever expect them to remember my children or their specific needs, as they're very busy professionals. I've learned to be an advocate for Caleb, for his autism, and to be prepared that even though I'm in a medical environment, it's not guaranteed he'll be treated any differently than his neurotypical peers.
We've seen a couple doctors at this particular practice and every one has their own way of doing things. Last year, when Caleb had a double ear infection, we were able to see one of the head doctors who was so patient, quieted her voice, let him hold the instruments, and stayed long. I secretly hoped we could switch to having her as our primary, but we stuck with our regular doc when we made our appointment today.
I walked in this morning, holding my bug's hand as tears poured from his bloodshot eyes, I signed in, took as seat, and tried to distract Caleb with the remainder of Tangled that was playing in the waiting room. "No shots. No pokes. Nurse first, then doctor. This is easy. Just listen to your cough." I peeked over and saw my favorite Doctor reach over and specifically ask for Caleb's chart {!!!}.
The nurse called his name and we slowly walked back. We walked back and back, to a far away corner where he stood on a scale, and then into an exam room where our Doc was already washing up. No waiting. No closing and opening doors. No crunchy paper. No one around. She spoke softly and slowly and remembered him from last time. She let him hold her stethoscope and asked small, quick question that he was able to answer. She showed him everything before she used it, and patiently answered all of my questions.
Caleb was a trooper. I still have to bear hug him when they take his temperature and look in his ears, and he still cries, but at least he's not kicking and screaming anymore.
She wrote a few *just in case* prescriptions for us to take home, and ushered us out. She took us around the back way, where there weren't crying babies who'd just had their shots, or phones ringing or nurses crumpling up papers for new exam tables. It was one room with one clerk and a door to the hall. She gave Caleb a lime green lollipop and made the decision herself to have Caleb as one of her permanent patients. I said about a billion thankyous and headed into the hall. Caleb let out a huge cheer of relief and screamed "that's the BEST doctor I've ever been to!!" I was sure to stick my head back inside to let her know how much fun he'd had.
So this enormously long post was simply to tell you how pleased I was when we went to the pediatrician today. These aren't things that everyone notices, but I notice them because I live and breathe them. They are what trigger meltdowns and sensory overloads, which can take hours to recover from. But the effort put forth by one person meant the world to me today.
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