Dum Dums

Last May (let's see, what was that, eight months ago), Chloe's neurologist decided she would benefit from a stander....

Because she is unable to properly bear weight on her legs via crawling and/or walking, her hips and ankles are not taking proper position. The first step to the stander, was to get her DAFO braces, which we were able to get in July....

The hearts really take them up a notch, don't you think?!?! I picked them out and I have to tell ya, I think they are adorable! We use them for exercises a few times a day, but we're not able to get full use out of them until we get the stander. We've been waiting and waiting for our insurance company to approve the request, so we can order and get it sent (which will take another few months). It's been a frustrating process, but I'm an optimist, and knew the stander would eventually come. Then, I got the letter from the insurance company, with the dreadful D word on it....

Before I became a SAHM, I worked for an insurance company for seven years as a claims adjuster (I'll leave names out of it for now). Did you know that one of the first things I received in that job was a big DENIED stamp and a red ink pad? I'm not joking, it's true. By the time I left, we had gone paperless, so there was a denial stamp that we superimposed on the letters instead. Whenever I shipped off my 'DENIED' letters, I knew nasty phone calls would follow in no time. I was called a lot of things as a claims adjuster. Somehow, even if the person on the other end of the phone had never met me, they knew I was blond. The guilty take the truth hard, and that was the name that upset me the very most. Many of the other names that were sent my way, we will leave out of this post (since this is a G-rated, family friendly blog). But let's just say, the name calling was often very similar to....

Dum Dum. And now that I'm on the receiving end of the Denial stamp, I understand the name calling a little bit more. But understanding the system as I do, I recognize that the denial stamp is not always the final answer. So I'm taking control of the situation. That is one of the reasons we went to Dr Alvey on Tuesday. I'm putting him on my side. He ordered x-rays to show medical necessity for the stander. And we went to get the x-rays this afternoon.

Having a child with medical issues, I have become familiar with waiting rooms. I have learned how enjoyable the waiting room experience can be. Instead of picking up a magazine, I usually chat with other moms and make quick friends. I actually get excited to wait so I can meet a new friend. I am hardly ever disappointed, and today seemed to be no exception. The other mom was about my age and she had a little girl about Chloe's age. We took turns sending compliments on the girl's outfits. "Oh, those shoes are so cute!" "Thanks, I got them at Target." "Oh, I love Target, that's where I got her hat." "Do you think they have anymore? I want one for my little girl!"..... and on and on. I was delighted to have met my latest friend. We were chatting so much that the movie playing in the background became annoying and we both complained about the noise.

The Prince Ali song from Aladdin can be rather irritating at certain decibels. Until this point, I had been holding Chloe, and I'm sure my new-found friend had no clue of Chloe's deficits. Her little one was scurrying around the room playing with an array of toys. She suggested that Chloe get down and play as well. To which I answered, "Oh Chloe can't walk." I was ready to explain, but was quickly forced to face her response, which was, "She can't walk yet???"

Oh. Yes she did. I was shocked. I immediately thought of my Nosy Onlooker post and the many comments that were left, about what people think of nosy onlookers, and some commenters were even empathetic to onlookers. I mean, I understand that I shouldn't expect complete strangers to understand what's going on with my child. I started to giggle, I think I was just uncomfortable and not sure what to do. She still had a baffled look on her face and was insisting on an explanation. So, I stopped my skirmish giggles and said, "Oh, she has a seizure disorder and it causes her to be developmentally delayed." I expected her response to be something like....

But the response I got was, "Well, you don't need to be rude."

Oh. Yes she did. I started my uncomfortable giggling again. I was not sure how to respond. I was shocked. I couldn't wait for the waiting room experience to be over. Suddenly I was grateful for the loud Aladdin music to fill the tense air, and I grabbed the closest thing I could find, which happened to be....

What a cute book! And I was so grateful to have something positive to fill my head to replace the negativity. I just couldn't believe that she thought I was the one being rude, and that she was the one with the snappy response. I just couldn't believe it. Yes, thank goodness for the sweet book.

Then, the door opened. I couldn't wait. I knew they would either be calling her or me. But when I saw the man standing at the door, who looked a lot like....

an escaped convict, I kind of hoped he would call her name.

Nope.

"Chloe?"

So I had two choices: either go with the scary guy or stay with the unpleasant woman. I saught refuge with the convict.

Looks can be deceiving. He helped with my diaper bag. He got all the doors. He was chatty. He was cute with Chloe. He was a teddy bear in ex-convict clothing. He restored my faith in humanity, and I needed that after the experience in the waiting room.

He took us into the x-ray room, which Chloe loved, because it was filled with....

zoo animals! Chloe especially loved the stuffed elephant, and that is what Mr. Teddy Bear used to distract her from the unpleasant x-ray experience. It worked. Chloe was a champ!

She did so good, that Mr. Teddy Bear gave Chloe a....

Dum Dum. An appropriate (and ironic) ending to our visit to the doctor's office, don't you think?

It's also ironic that I did this post, (calling people names, judging people by the way they look) the very day after I posted the Peaceful Warrior quotes. I guess I need to take the quotes more to heart, huh? Especially, 'Those who are hardest to love are the ones who need it most.' Yep. Gotta work on that.