Visiting a Plastic Surgeon

This morning we all awoke early to drive to a doctors appointment for Rhayn. You see, every year or so, we go to the CRS clinic to be checked by either an ENT, a speech pathologist, a plastic surgeon or a few other doctors on her "team". When Rhayn was born she had a cleft palate that required surgery when she was six months old. Her surgery coincided with one of the worst days in American history, so if you haven't been reading this blog very long- please follow this link to read about that day.

We arrived the full thirty minutes early that we were supposed to. Since we only go every so often, we usually have to fill out financial forms in order to be seen. Only we arrived at seven, and the financial folk don't get in until 7:45. Excellent. We sat, when we could have stayed in bed until the normal time and not gotten up and out of the house by 6:30.

During our wait period, I read the girls the sixth book in the Magic Treehouse series (they had a bin of books that said "Take one home!" so we picked one to read while waiting, and I grabbed a 50 cent copy of Around the World in 80 Days.) I was able to read the entire Magic Treehouse aloud to the girls while we waited, which was rather nice.

The financial appointment was silly. I just had to sign a paper saying that we will be billed 100% of the AHCCCS cost. Then we were sent on our way to see Rhayn's plastic surgeon. The surgeon looked in her mouth, the speech pathologist listened to her count to seventy, and we were on our way. Everything is growing as it should, her palate looks awesome. She will go back in two years to be checked again, but until then, its like it never even happened.

After the appointment, I took the girls for breakfast. We had had a bowl of cereal at home, but that was nearly three hours before. When we were seated at the diner, the table behind us was talking loudly. REALLY loudly, and the guy was telling his mates a story about a couple who were fighting in court about custody of a child. Not a big deal, until he started going into details about the bloody pictures on the guys wall, and how the mom was a cutter and the things they were saying in court. Rhayn got up to go to the restroom (yes, I let her go alone IF I can see the restroom or if I feel like its ok, she is 8.) I turned around and asked the table if they could speak more quietly because I didn't think my kids needed to listen to their story, no matter how interesting it was.

This is a big deal for me. I am not one to confront people. I am shy and scared and usually let things like this slide off my back, well I panic inside and think of all the things I should be saying while just letting it all go. But I didn't want them listening to this. It was a terrible story. I was sure Rhayn would ask me about it later, especially if the man kept talking at his ever increasing volume. I was glad I asked them to be quiet. It made our breakfast pleasant.

I am sure I have said this before, but it bears repeating this deployment has made me stronger. I am more sure of myself than I was before, because I know I can do this. I have to do this. I don't have someone else to take care of me. And I really needed that strength.