Terry, <low whistle>. You had mentioned in the past that you had had some challenging medical conditions, but I had had no clue the extent of them. Wow. And I can only imagine the depths of pain and sorrow you went through with your son. I am so sorry.
Terry and Barbara, thank you both for your prayers on my behalf. I really appreciate them. And Terry, you are in my prayers about your hip surgery.
Barbara, perhaps your neighbour could record videos for his daughter to watch? Some could be for her current age, and others for when she reaches certain milestones in her life (e.g., graduations). I know it isn't the same as actually being able to be there for her, but it would at least be something.
As for it not being pleasant for the caller... Well, I have a rather nasty experience about that, too. When my son was born, he was whisked away from the birthing center to a NICU because of tachypnea (overly rapid, shallow breathing). In the process of trying to determine the reason, he underwent several tests, include a brain MRI. On my first visit to see him, on his third day of life (I would have gone sooner, but my then-husband kept finding excuses not to go there, so I had to recover from childbirth enough to drive myself), an intern took me aside, offered me a drink of water or coffee, and asked me to sit down. So far, so good. But then, without any other lead-in, told me my son had diffuse brain lesions. I have no medical training and strongly suspect that I am slightly autistic, but even I know that one should break such news gently for example, "As you know, we have been conducting several tests to determine why your son has tachypnea. One of them revealed some irregularities..."
But as if that weren't bad enough, he then spend the next several minutes complaining about how he didn't like that part of the job; how he hated to give parents bad news, and generally whining variations of, "pity poor me." Meanwhile, I was reeling with the potential repercussions of this life-altering news.
A neurologist spoke with me a bit later and let me know that the "diffuse brain lesions" were actually relatively small, and there were only three of them. Of course, that is three too many, but at least he gave me some hope. Subsequent MRIs did not show even those three. But I've often wondered whether they were the first hints at would would later be revealed as my son's autism, inability to smell or to feel heat and cold, and other disabilities.
Don't get me wrong -- I certainly do not envy the bearers of the bad news, and would never want to be in their shoes, either. But I really wish that that intern had saved his "Woe is me" complaints for his family or friends. I found his complaining to me at that time to be breathtakingly inappropriate.
Be well,
Lynn
