Last Tuesday was about three weeks since the last kids’ labs were done. There was something funky on the results so Drs. Wonderful and Matter of Fact wanted to re-test both of them.

We’d been using Labcorp insurance forms for the blood draws and going for almost four years to Children’s Hospital for their labs and it’s a trip. Here’s how a typical visit goes with both children:

1:15pm  Pick Quinn up at school

2:25pm  Pick Gage up at school

2:50pm  Stop in the back of CVS for Gage to pee (The Urine Factor of a child with chronic kidney disease)

3:20pm  Pull in Children’s Hospital parking deck

3:21pm   Try to talk Gage out of wanting to park on the top of the deck, 6 stories up.

3:30pm   Park on the top deck, far from the elevator in hopes that the helicopter is there.

3:31pm  Stop between cars and pillars of deck for Gage to pee (The Urine Factor, part 2)

3:32pm  If the helicopter is there – stop, visit, sit in the thing and thank the pilots.

3:40pm  Take the parking deck elevator to the ground floor of Children’s Hospital

3:45pm  Stop by and look at the aquarium of Nemo fish, and irritate them by pounding on the glass saying “Nemo! Come here!” at the top of your lungs.

3:41pm  Stop in the Chapel, next to Nemo, for kids to pray for gentle nurses and good lab results. Sign “guest” book of prayer requests in BIG all CAP letters – first names only – and use an entire sheet to do it.

3:50pm  Take elevator from ground floor to first floor.

3:51pm  Stop at bathroom for Quinn

3:55pm Check in at Out-patient services for billing, hand over insurance and Medicaid cards for both children, sign 3 release/privacy forms for each child. Get ID bands for them, which they reluctantly put on. Carry 10 sheets of paper for each child to lab. This process can be a 5 minute to 15 minute ordeal.

4:05pm Check in at lab around the corner. See what’s on TV (provided by a big National Bank, thank you very much), read one of the 4 books that are in English. Explain each and every time we’re there that some pages are missing and torn because they are old books and a lot of kids different ages read them.

4:somethingpm  This time can vary greatly. The blood draw techs/nurses serve the hospital patients and ER. Sometimes it’s a quick thing, sometimes it’s not. It doesn’t matter what time of day it is either – don’t think I haven’t tried that trick. Take in one child at a time. Hold Gage tightly and warn the techs that he is stronger than he looks and HE WILL KICK YOUR SHINS. HARD. IT WILL HURT. Draw blood, pick out sticker and treat and leave.

4:30pmish  Take elevator down to the ground. Stop by cafeteria for a banana, milk and cheese crackers. This will usually involve another trip to the bathroom.

4:45-5:00ish  Take elevator up to 6^th floor of parking deck.

5:00pmish Pull out into busy street just in time for rush hour traffic in a metropolitan city.

5:45pm  Pull onto our street, to realize its dinner time and approximately an hour and 15 minutes from bedtime.

So…I noticed a Labcorp office and called. Will they take Labcorp form orders from my doctor? Yes. Do they handle pediatrics? Yes. Can we just walk-in whenever? Yes.

So we head out last week to try this route. It’s closer to home and sounds a tad easier. The sign on the door says: “DRUG TESTING.” We arrive 30 minutes before they close. I give them the forms, sign a waiver for each child, we make small talk and we’re in the blood draw chair within 5 minutes of arriving. Quinn is first. Little noise, a few tears. Then Gage’s turn. The two women that are helping us are so wonderful and distracting to Gage, it’s over before the first shin injury. Not one scream, protest, or tear. First time. Ever.

We drive home. The entire time lapsed: maybe 40 minutes. We were home so fast that Julian thought we forgot something when we walked through the door.

Never have I been so surprised about the service, caring attitude and gentle skill from the most unexpected places as I was Tuesday when I tried an unconventional method to getting the kids labs done. Small victory. Score one for team Gage/Quinn. Listen people, we take the points where we can get them.

Three years ago last October, just weeks after Quinn was born and diagnosed with kidney disease, and weeks before Gage was diagnosed, I took Gage to 3 appointments – 2 therapy visits and a doctors’ visit. They were in three different locations throughout the city and required Gage to attend speech therapy, have us drive to another location an hour later to change into a wet suit for aquatics therapy and wait another 2 hours to go to a neurology appointment, without us having time to go home in between.

It was a relief to be able to focus on Gage for a day, even if it involved work on his part and a doctor’s visit. In between appointments we had lunch and stopped at Borders book store. I thought it’d be nice to get him a treat for being such a trooper. I had a book in mind.

We entered Borders and went to the kids section, and within seconds Gage spotted a very bright orange cat, with a Halloween bow around its neck and claimed it. He couldn’t be swayed to choose anything else in the store. Gage has always loved stuffed animals and has several favorites. Since he was a baby he’d slept with Nighty Bear. He has several “friends” on his bed at any given time, all set up a certain way and a certain order – in an OCD way (that’s for another post).

I helped him name her. Since we were working on him saying the letter “L” in therapy I’d thought it’d be good to pick a name with L in it. So Sally was named, and Gage was happy.

I thought Sally would become like the rest of his friends and end up on his bed, heaped high upon Scooby, or Fluffy, or Sparky. No, no, people. Like Nighty Bear, Sally became his sleeping pal, the one he wrapped his arms around each night and each morning, the one who has made an appearance to many a breakfast.

Sally has been washed at least 40 times. Sally has long lost her Halloween ribbon, and had her tail chewed on by the boy who has texture issues, she has endured trips to the beach, the grocery store, and the mall. Sally regularly makes it to most doctor visits, hospital trips, and days of long testing.

Gage loves the cat that I affectionately (and privately) call Ugly Orange Kitty. And I couldn’t be happier to have the ugly kitty comfort him. This morning as I woke Gage up, and his arms tightly held Sally, I thought that someday this cat will spend much more time at the doctor and hospital comforting my sweet little boy during transplant evaluations, testing, surgery and recovery. I was happy and sad at the same time.

I am thankful, even grateful to have Ugly Orange Kitty in Gage’s life. It is the best $12.95 I’ve ever spent.

Gage’s foot hurts. Not a broken-Mom-I-can’t-stand-on-it kind of way, but a Mom-my-foot-hurts kind of way. It’s the arch on his right foot. I tried to get him in to see an orthopedist. The appointment was three weeks away so I agreed to be seen by the doc’s Phycisian Assistant. During that three day wait I decided to take Gage to see our ped’s PA and she said hold off and see the doctor if possible, as Gage was getting around okay and not in a great deal of pain. So I cancelled the PA appointment and remarkably got in the very next day to see the Doctor – I was told due to a cancellation. Great! I think…even lucky.

I bring both kids after school to the office of 7 doctors, located in a congested area of town. It’s raining. The appointment is at 2:50. I arrive at 2:20. I fill out tons of paperwork including diagnosis, medication, other care team physicians, and handover the insurance cards, all the while keeping Gage and Quinn engaged in not running wild around the 30 people or so in the office.

The nurse comes out and says: “the doctor is running about 1 hour behind today” and says to me “your appointment is actually one month from today. Not today.” She continues “if you would like to wait 2 hours, the Doctor can see you.”

“What?” I say to the person THAT. MADE. THE. APPOINTMENT. WITH. ME.

“I just made this appointment yesterday, you said because of a cancellation. If it was one month away I would have taken the appointment that was two weeks away, not one month away. Does that make sense to you?”

She stares. Blankly. Like I have just spoken another language.

“It is not a good idea for me to stay with two children, who have spent all day at school, and will be hungry, because by the time I see the doctor, IT WILL BE THEIR DINNERTIME.”

Barely acting like she is alive, she says “would you like to stay or make another appointment?”

“I will make an appointment, but I will likely not keep it, because there is no way I want to see a physican who has employees that have no regard for their patients time…regardless of who is at fault for the miscommunication you could at least pretend you are sorry this has happened.”

Not one word from Miss No-pulse.

And as I run through the rain back to the car with the kids, tears start to flow. Because I so badly didn’t need to waste 2 ½ hours today. Gage says “Mommy, why are you crying?” I respond “Because that woman wasn’t very nice when she realized today was not our appointment and I’m upset because you and Quinn have to spend way too much time going to and from doctors and I wished we had been at home playing instead.”

Gage, not missing a beat says “we should not come here again.” 

“Exactly” I say. I stop the car, call to find a new doctor and schedule an appointment for one week from yesterday, and cancel the “new” appointment with Miss No-pulse.

I wish Doctors knew sometimes they are as good as their staff. I hope I can be a consultant to the pediatric medical community in my next life.

My first requirement of all staff? A pulse.

Gage’s labs look good. Lowest BUN/CREAT in two years. Unexplainable. And wonderful.

Procrit still doing the job. Gage has skin color and energy.

It’s crazy – the things that can make my day now.