I still love you (really, really love you) so don’t take this the wrong way, but…

For the 2nd time in a row, I have brought my boy to the transplant floor for labs and there weren’t lab orders. Eight months ago (tomorrow) he got a new kidney and we have been there no less than 75 times since the gently used kidney was hooked up. So, we’re pros, I know.

But I still haven’t figured out that I should get a copy of lab orders and have them with me at all times! This should have been on our list of DOs and DON’Ts that we were handed as we wheeled our newly transplanted child through the safety of those hospital doors.

I know it doesn’t sound like a lot – I mean it’s just an 1 hour and 45 minutes. And granted, I get peeved pretty easily when we have precious time taken away from our lives, but Gage was missing school. School, people! Have you not seen his reading scores? Or his writing? The boy needs that extra two 1/2 hours in school, including travel time, trust me.

So today, when lab orders weren’t ready and we had to wait for almost two hours FOR A BLOOD DRAW it annoyed me. Well, truth be told a lot of things annoy me, but that is right up there at the top of the list of going to the hospital. So when I said Gage needed to get to school and we could come back after school today it wasn’t a threat, it was common sense.

I know, I get pushy when things like this happen, but am I supposed to just make Gage wait? I mean you’ve seen him right? You’ve seen him race the wheelchairs, lay on the floor right and push the wheelchair door button three-hundred times right, literally running around in circles around the staff offices and counters? Because that is what happens when things aren’t routine and we linger there. And let’s not mention that I had to bribe him to sit still for the draw because he was not really feeling the love that long into the process. So, when someone rushes him and says “Gage, come on…Gage, come on….come on, now Gage.” without taking a breath and a tad of time to connect with him, it really doesn’t help. I know it’s not your fault there were no orders. It’s not really his fault either. I mean I know we’re all human and people make mistakes and things happen. But don’t take it out on him, please. Because that annoys me too.

And I do understand, with as much compassion that I have in me, that you all have to do this same thing with 100 other kids this week and every week. I (seriously) could not do any of your jobs. You are stellar. I still love all of you. But this is just my one kid, my little knuckle-head. And I’m concerned with his well-being and his time. And his education. And I don’t want him at that hospital if he doesn’t have to be.

Thanks for your understanding,

The Management