A few weeks ago, while we had company, our telephone rang. I peeked at the Caller ID and hit a button to silence the ring. Jackson, in an effort to impress our guests, gave an exasperated sigh, rolled his eyes and said, "Probably just a bill collector."
Clearly, we need to teach my four year old about proper dinner conversation.
Our visitors just pretended that he hadn't said anything and my husband and I happily ignored him, as well. Before my readers begin sending me messages about debt consolidation or money management programs, let me stress that "bill collectors" do not call our house regularly. As those of you with children know, you can say something ONE time in front of your child and they will inevitably repeat it, at the most inopportune time.
That being said, this blog ain't called "Coasting in on Fumes" for nothing.
Yes, Jack has heard us say the phrase he repeated. I am not ashamed of that. I don't want pity or advice and I definitely don't want to be judged. What I do want, is for people to understand the choices and life situations that are made by families such as my own.
My boys have Noonan Syndrome. As a result, they both also have Von Willebrand Disease, which means that their blood doesn't clot properly. Last September, Henry had a GI bleed. I discovered this when he awoke from his nap with a diaper full of blood. We took him to York Hospital's ER and they discovered his blood count was dangerously low. We were rushed to John Hopkins by ambulance, because York Hospital felt he needed the best care possible. When we arrived at Johns Hopkins, we were informed that they did not have the time to find the source of the bleed. All they knew was that if he did not receive a blood transfusion within an hour, his heart (which was at 214 BPM) was going to give out.
After the transfusion, a million tests, and three days in the PICU, they discovered that a Meckel's Diverticulum (very rare) had ruptured in his stomach. Since Henry's blood doesn't clot, it had put him in a life threatening situation. He had surgery, which required more platelets and more monitoring. I spent ten days with Henry at Johns Hopkins Hospital throughout the ordeal. Words cannot begin to describe what it was like. It was easily the worst ten days of my life.
I can honestly say that we did not bother to pay any bills or even look at our checkbook during the ten days in which we wondered if our son would live or die. In addition, Michael had limited vacation time, so he had to take four days off with no pay. Yes, bill collectors began calling our house. I am not ashamed of that. For those of you who have never had the experience of an unexpected, extended hospital stay, insurance does not cover late night trips to the vending machines. It does not cover gas money to get home to check on your four year old, who doesn't know where his brother is. And it most definitely does not cover the $25 that you have to spend at the hospital gift shop to buy an outfit to take your baby home in, because the only clothes he has at the hospital are soaked with ten day old blood.
It's been seven months since we almost lost Henry. The physical, emotional, and financial scars are still there. We are coping. We are dealing with what comes at us, as it comes at us. Jackson makes inappropriate announcements because we teach our boys to not be ashamed of who we are, what we go through, or what we have. If people want to judge our lifestyle or how we manage our money, that is their problem, not ours.
When we left the hospital on the day Henry was released, he was back on a normal diet. After a seven day liquid diet, he had had three days of hospital food. I also knew that the veins in both of his feet and both of his hands had collapsed under the strain of the five different IVs he had. Because of that, his last four blood draws in the hospital had been taken from his head. And I knew that if there was ever a child that deserved a treat of McDonald's french fries and a Coke - it was him. Despite the money problems I knew we were going home to, I counted out the change in the console of my car and went through the drive thru for my brave boy before we got home.
And I am not ashamed of that.
