My husband titled a painting Wrasslin’ with the Devil (www.haywoodart.com) last year. It depicted a snake handling preacher with snake in hands looking oddly fearful and brave at the same time. I feel like I’m that preacher. Ro is going to have a procedure done to check her urinary tract and bladder and some problems she has been having. It’s gotten bad enough that she doesn’t drink enough to keep herself hydrated as she doesn’t want to go to the bathroom. This was enough to land her in the hospital for four days after she caught a stomach virus that everyone had had and recovered quickly from. The problem is that I am having to trust a doctor to treat her properly. She will be under anesthesia, and more than likely I won’t be in the room.
The devil in this situation is many things – me dealing with past, me dealing with fear, me second guessing. Ro’s birth was an unnecessary c-section that happened because I was too trusting that another woman doctor would treat me ethically. Since, it has been hard for me to trust a doctor even with minor things. So, in turn I second guess whether Ro needs the procedure or not. I think what if some of the behaviors are habits now, left over from a problem now healed, not indicative of a larger problem. I wonder if the procedure is necessary. I wonder all this despite the fact that the symptoms are still around and no better. It is the scar that is in my face everyday that is the problem, and I’m trying to protect my child from being affected by that scar any further.
The thought of a child as young as her being put under anesthesia frightens me. I hate the thought of her feeling that loss of control before you slip under. I’m thankful for it too because she won’t remember anything after – the procedure itself – which is the point. I’m still thinking I might request that I be in the room while it is done. It is in the hospital though, so I’m not sure that will fly.
Ro had her first antibiotics ever just last month. I’m adamant about taking pharmaceuticals only when clearly necessary. Then, I’m told by one doctor that he thinks the type of antibiotic used was overkill. She has had to see three different doctors. So, then, I think, overkill, who can I trust not pull an overkill on my baby. I want to say, “You’re not in the practice of playing let’s see how much of what I know I can actually use, but in the practice of assisting the human body in healing itself.” Why is that so hard?
We live off-grid and unfortunately (though improving) the access to quality healthcare is slim. To see most types of specialists one would have to travel at least three hours. I do believe we have a fairly local urologist with good intentions for my child in my head. Now, it’s time to make my heart believe it and make the best decision for my baby.
The vomiting happened again last night and I soon realized where the bravery in the preacher’s eyes came from. He felt called to handle snakes. I am called to protect and nurture my child. In order for him to handle the poisonous snake he had to let go and let God. In this instance, I have to look beyond my past experiences, and let go and let God.