Hanukkah Miracles, Large and Small
posted Wednesday December 1st, 2010
The nurse looked hard at me, then at Sophie.
“Doesn’t her dad usually bring her?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said. “He does. But he’s out of town today.”
I thought it was sweet that she remembered Ray, since it’s been a whole year since Sophie’s last cardiologist appointment. A YEAR. That’s big in our world. We’ve never gone a whole year.
When I realized that the appointment was yesterday — a day Ray couldn’t take her — I thought about changing it. But it’s hard to get in, it would have been another whole month. Neither Ray nor I thought it was a good idea to wait. So I went.
I take the girls to most of their doctor appointments, but Ray’s been the pointman on the heart, since the very beginning. He took the first call, the one where we learned that although the pediatrician (the one who insisted she didn’t have Down syndrome) was positive there was nothing wrong with Sophie’s heart, there was. She needed open heart surgery when she was four months old.
Ray’s the one who learned all the terminology, the one who watched them put the bag of ice on our infant’s face to shock her back when her heart went nuts, in the aftermath of surgery. And after the doctors promised the first fix was a good one, it was Ray who called me from the cardiologist’s office when Sophie was four, to break the news that she needed surgery again. That appointment was the one that was supposed to be the last six month check up; after that, it would be every year. But it wouldn’t. We were back at square one.
Now we’re finally at the annual exam mark. A whole year without a cardiologist listening to Sophie’s heart. A year without an EKG. Or an echocardiogram. I was nervous this morning, so nervous I didn’t even notice that I dressed Sophie in hearts — dress, tights, even her Converse have little hearts Sharpie-d on. So nervous I forgot we were past Empty until we were pulling out of the driveway, already late for the appointment across town.
I watched that damn echocardiogram machine, and thought of the first echo, when Sophie was four days old; the tech was stoic, didn’t say a word, kept his gaze from ours. I knew better today than to ask what the red flashes meant. Or the blue ones. I waited for the doctor.
He was all smiles. Sophie is just fine. She has a little leakage, but no more today than she did after the second surgery, he told me. Her repair is “artful,” he said.
I texted Ray, and left the doctor’s office with a big smile — my biggest challenge now to find Sophie an EKG machine for Christmas. (Note to self: Don’t suggest writing letter to Santa while waiting in a doctor’s office with tempting medical machinery around.)
And gas. Damn, we needed gas. I’m quite sure we floated up to the gas pump on fumes; there’s no way I’d had enough gas to make it. A Hanukkah miracle, I giggled to myself, as I stuck my debit card in the machine.
Two miracles.
<3 <3 <3
wonderful news for Sophie! Hooray! EKG machine for christmas-ha ha ha! (or should that read ho ho ho)
Wonderful news!!!!!!!!!
What great news! I’m so happy for all for all of you.
oh, Amy ! :-]
Oh how wonderful…. I was holding my breath the whole time! Heart stuff makes me crazy ( and your Dr stories make me so mad) so I’m just going to send you a big hug. XO
great to hear!
Glad to hear the appointments are yearly and that this one went well. Alan has been the appointment guy around here. He’s also the one that got to “bag” Brennan one time when he stopped breathing on his way to an MRI. Thank goodness for miracles and strong spouses.
happiness, happiness!!!!
Hooray!
so happy to hear your great news!!!!
YAY! What happy news…miraculous, indeed. Take care!