Thursday I went to the Maternal-Fetal specialist’s office, so we could get our weekly peek at the Twinkie’s brains.
It was the first time I had this particular ultrasound tech, and as she worked, I watched the ultrasound in progress, asked questions, and made sure that she told me any measurements she was able to get. After a while, she asks me, “so, what do you do–something in health care?” I resisted the urge to laugh and said no and she responded with, “well, you seem to know a lot about things.” Then I explained that my son had special needs and that it’s kind of like getting a crash-course in a wide variety of medical issues.
Later, the doctor came in, and I discussed my anemia with him a little more. It’s a little confusing, but I have two doctors–one for the babies, and one for me. This is the one who didn’t prescribe the iron pills, so when I mentioned that the other doctor had, he began this really long explanation about how my body should recuperate on its own, different types of anemia, and so on. Basically, he was defending why he hadn’t prescribed the pills himself.
I was doing my usual thing: prying, picking apart his answer, and asking for clarification and he finally chuckled and said, “you’re smart.” The nurse immediately launched into it again, talking about how much I knew about the ultrasound and measurements.
I don’t know about you guys, but I think this is the way it is for a special needs parent. Sometime after having Charlie, I found that I couldn’t be satisfied by and article on Web MD. I don’t want to read “prognosis is generally poor.” I want to read the study, I want exact numbers, I want details. So when something was wrong with the Twinkies, I naturally did the exact same thing. I wasn’t satisfied with generalities, but wanted pure, unadulterated research. I even went so far as to download a PowerPoint presentation given to ultrasound students on how the measurement test works and what an appropriate reading is for every week of gestation. Yes, I get that involved.
So maybe I had to drop Botany in college.
And maybe my high school chemistry teacher called me “average.”
But if it’s medical knowledge needed to make good decisions for my family? I got that.