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2/9/1999 Sickness and Death10:15 a.m. Though he seemed to be improving this weekend, Stephen is worse today. He woke up with a fever of over 100 deg., and was coughing and very congested. He ate a quarter of a waffle for breakfast (he usually eats three quarters or even a whole one) and nothing at all for lunch. He has been listless all day and only wants to be held by me. Today was supposed to be the day of my parent/teacher conference with Miss Dawn, Daniel's teacher, but I canceled it and made an appointment with our pediatrician instead. We're scheduled at 2:20 this afternoon, which means I need to put the twins down for a nap early if they are to get any sleep today 11:20 Tab just called to say he heard on the radio that HIP, our HMO, is officially dead. All the health centers will close by the end of March. He's already called the university's personnel (ahem...Human Resources) office, and he spoke to one of the benefits people there who assured him those of us with HIP will be allowed to switch coverage to another one of the plans university offers. Unfortunately, the other plans the are more expensive. Oh, well. I'm glad I made it through my childbearing years with HIP. The out-of-pocket expenses for all the ultrasounds, biophysical profiles, perinatologist visits, not to mention the C-section with the twins, would have put us heavily in debt. 8:35 p.m. What a day! We got to the doctor's office on time and only had to wait a few minutes before Lynnise, our favorite nurse, brought us into the exam room. I commiserated with her about the end of HIP; although, as I told her, she is such a great nurse, I have no doubt she'll easily find work. But the closing of this center will be like the breakup of a family. I've been going there since before I got pregnant with Daniel. Occasionally, when I'm bringing in the kids for an appointment, I'll run into one of the OB/GYN nurses I saw during my pregnancies, who greets me and marvels at how the boys have grown. When Dr. Jennings arrived I asked her if she knew where she'll end up, but she is still not sure. We'd like to retain her as the boys' doctor, but that will depend on what insurance whichever practice she joins accepts. Stephen's ears and throat checked out OK. His lungs sounded clear to her, but she heard his tight cough and wanted him to have a chest X-ray to rule out pneumonia or some other infection. We had to wait nearly 45 minutes for the X-ray technician to see us. While we were waiting in the kids play room, another mother and her son arrived. This boy seemed younger than the twins, perhaps 2 1/2 or 3, but was bigger than them. Stephen approached the kid with a friendly smile, saying, "Hi!" and the kid promptly hit Stephen's nose. Stephen's expression collapsed into bewildered sadness and hurt. He is such a friendly little guy, that it seems to shock him when other kids are mean. And this was a mean kid. Later on he purposely shoved Stephen hard, and his mother barely reprimanded him. I can imagine him growing up to be a schoolyard bully, especially if he stays big. When we finally got to see the X-ray technician, she couldn't believe how well Stephen cooperated. She chatted with him a little bit, then asked him to come with her. Without a backward glance, he trotted off beside her. We always worry about Stephen because we've suspected that he would go off with any stranger who appeared friendly. Watching him walk off with the X-ray technician without waiting for my permission, without even a backward glance at me, I saw our worries confirmed. I watched through a small window while the technician fastened the protective lap belt around Stephen's waist. She asked him to stand still facing away from us, with his arms outstretched as though hugging the machine while she took the image. Then she had him turn sideways and took another picture. Both times, he did exactly as she directed. She said he ought to get patient of the week award and couldn't believe he was only 3. I told her she was lucky it was Stephen being X-rayed and not his twin, who would not have been nearly as cooperative. Dr. Jennings looked at the X-rays and told us Stephen's lungs were fine. She thinks he might have a case of the flu since the symptoms seem to have lasted so long. She gave us a prescription for cough medicine with codeine that should ease his cough and that contains a decongestant to help his other symptoms. Then we were off to pick up Daniel, 20 minutes late because of the long wait for the X-ray. We dropped of the prescription at the new CVS because it has a drive-through pharmacy window. I like the idea of a drive-through pharmacy because dragging sick kids in and out of the car to drop off a prescription and then again to pick it up is one of the hateful aspects of children's illnesses. In principle, at least, the drive-through pharmacy window is a great idea. Actually, going to this CVS turned out to be a big mistake because when we stopped by to get the filled prescription after picking up Tab, we had to wait another 25 minutes, only to be told at the end of that time that they were having trouble getting the computer to recognize the account. So off we went to our old CVS, where we finally were able to fill the prescription and then home for dinner. Tab left immediately after eating to go to the viewing for Uncle John. I had run into the funeral home on our way home from CVS to pay my respects. I met Johnatha's new girlfriend, Joyce, and thought she seemed cold and distant, not at all like Jane, her previous girlfriend, whom we all loved. I knelt in front of the casket and looked at Uncle John lying there. Why do dead bodies always look so small? Uncle John looked very frail and tiny in his coffin. There is nothing like seeing a dead body to realize that a person is more than his physical being. The empty shell I saw lying there would not have even made a passable wax figure at Mme. Tussaud's. I think it was even more pronounced in Uncle John's case because, as an Alzheimer's patient, his mind and personality had already left his body months before his physical death.
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