PCMC

Yep, I changed my title because this is my very own personal nickname on a daily basis. A few of my students go through this roll call before deciding which one to land on! It's funny, especially when one of my "tougher" guys does it and starts blushing because they don't want to look silly.

I decided this week that Primary Children's Medical Center (PCMC) is its own contradiction. I had to spend the better part of Thursday there as my 4-month old was being tested for cystic fibrosis (which, of course, he does not have). I have never been a fan of hospitals but the atmosphere in this one is so child-friendly it's almost pleasant. I observed many nurses, doctors, and other staff members interacting so warmly with every child that it made things a bit more comfortable. On the flip-side it is a children's hospital with sick to very, very sick kids. I watched as small children arrived at the outpatient clinic, where blood is taken or shots are given, and began to cry as soon as they saw which room they were in. It was sad. These kids obviously have to visit that clinic enough to learn to hate it. My heart goes out to anyone who has spent more than just a few hours there.

Doctors know nothing...

So a few years ago I swore off all doctors for a little over a year after I was tested for all sorts of nasty things. There was something wrong with me and I really wanted answers. I even waited months to see a specialist just to be told that it was all in my head, and that I probably had a lazy lifestyle. Then after tests for major diseases were given, and going through emotional hell each time, I decided that I'd had enough. Doctors are just big guessers, and patients have to build up tough skins to put up with all the scary terms being thrown around. I know this is pretty abstract, but I eventually found a doctor willing to admit that she didn't know what was going on and promised to not give up until things were figured out. I was feeling good about the medical world again... until today.

I took the boy for his 4-month check-up and after his weight and height was charted, his doctor shared her concern about how small he is. Now, he has my genes and I was tiny until I was 3. He has dropped a little weight, but he is heathy and happy. I think I would know if he was uncomfortable, feeling sick, or hungry all the time. (trust me, he is good eater!) So what does she start spouting?... go to Primary Children's Hospital for Cystic Fibrosis testing. Yep, that's just what every new mom wants to hear. I realize she wants to rule out all reasons for a little weight loss, but my gosh, ease a parent in to something like that. Or, I don't know, listen to the mom trying to explain the child's genetic make-up.

The point: doctors really don't know much, and they shouldn't act like they do.

Hell Yeah!

We used to live in Sugar House, and sometimes we really miss it. We miss the noises, the closeness of commerce, the uniqueness, and the variety of people. Out here in the suberbs... well, not so much variety. For example I saw exactly what we are missing out here today while waiting for a movie to start up in good ol' Sugar House. Walking up the street, to his own beat, was a black man shouting "Hell yeah!" over and over. I say to his own beat because it was really as if he had some song or lyrics going through his head. It made me and Dan miss our old home and I thought, "yes, this is what Daybreak needs." But then I also thought, if (not all, just most of) my neighbors saw and heard his exclamations they would end calling the cops.

The Best Medicine

So my 3 1/2 - month-old is just starting to laugh, and the sound is golden. Today he belly laughed for a good 10 minutes when his grandma was playing with him. Of course I was a bit jealous that it wasn't me making him laugh so hard, but I am addicted to it so it doesn't matter. I just never imagined that someone a fraction of my size and age could make me laugh so hard. Yep, we'll keep him!