For weeks, I didn’t answer their phone call. I give them credit. They tried multiple times. Sincerely. I just wasn’t in position to take the call. Between a graduating senior, a special needs teen, a house on the market, and frequent single parenting, it was less of a priority to me make my son’s annual doctor’s appointment.
I know… bad parenting award.
My special needs teen was born with a congenital heart defect. Being born with a life-threatening limitation, having it repaired, surrendering my inability to control the outcome… such is one of the most powerful, peace-giving, faith stories of my life…
What are those things in your life that are so big, you know you have to rely on something other than self?
But alas, I digress. It’s just hard not to give God credit when you know there is no way something could have happened outside of him. I praise God for what he did with my son. And with my family. And with me.
So for weeks and months last winter and spring, the local children’s hospital called me, attempting to schedule Josh for his annual cardiology checkup. It’s somewhat tricky. The cardiologists only have so much time for clinical assessments; appointments are limited. By late spring, no less, they quit calling.
As the light at the end of my figurative tunnel soon became clearer this month — and both grad festivities and house activities were winding down — I realized it’d be wise to schedule said appointment. And so I meekly returned their call.
Acknowledging that the delay was my fault, I attempted to schedule an appointment with our cardiologist for mid-July. Note: the Intramuralist & Co. are taking their talents to Central Florida next month, so an appointment here would need to happen ahead of time. There’s one problem; with limited appointments, there are no appointments available with Josh’s cardiologist until mid-August.
I didn’t do what I should have. I didn’t do what was most prudent. I screwed up. And now I couldn’t get my kid what he needed most.
Pause for a second…
In that scenario, how do we typically react? Do we cry out? Do we become demanding? … even when the error is “mine”?
The registration staff and I first decided to give one another a few days to think on it, discerning the wisest way forward. Maybe, in fact, there would be a cancellation we could take advantage of. After a week, it was concluded that there was no option in Cincinnati for us. We could not get in to see our doctor. We could see another doctor, but not one who was already familiar with Josh’s care.
That being the case, I asked for a recommendation in the Orlando area. If we need to start anew with another cardiologist, it seemed logical to us that we should start anew in our coming community.
The nurse on the phone called me later with three recommendations. As I asked about each, she commented that one of the doctors is actually still on staff here in Cincinnati — the families love him. Several from the midwest, in fact, are committed to traveling the 920 some miles in the future, because they respect this particular doctor deeply. I asked a few more questions, as this sounded like an excellent option.
The nurse shared that the highly regarded physician was transferring to a new, highly regarded healthcare facility in a new, expanding area of Orlando. “I’ve heard the name,” I pondered aloud to the nurse.
With Google Maps making us all look like more confident navigators than we really are, I quickly exclaimed, “It’s only two miles from our new house in Florida!!”
Had I done what I could have… had I done what I even should have… the end result would not have been this good.
Sometimes the biggest blessings come in spite of us…
… without asking…
… when least expected…
… in practical, wonderful ways.
Respectfully…
AR