may 30 2009

Last week I went with son3 (ADHD) to the neurologist.

I warned him several times the days before to wake up in time and don't complain about anything.

He was in time, we even arrived in time in hospital and during the long walk through the corridors, following a number, he complained about 5 times before we finally arrived at the other side of the building.
Walking through an enormous empty hall, like a spaceshiphangar, I spotted some nerves, but when we mentioned our name, spelled it, and spelled it again, standing in front of a desk and a colourless secretary, he smiled and even mentioned his birthdate twice without blinking his eye.

Waiting was fun, with nurses and assistants walking past, new people arriving and little babies moving their little hands like peekaboos outside and inside their prams.

We were called by a familiar nurse.
In a way it pays off in a children's hospital when you're having 6 kids, because there's always some nurse who knows either one of the kids or me.
We had a nice chat while walking the labyrinth of small examination rooms, and in the meantime I thought that the farther away we would get from the main waitingroom the more important the neurologist would be. And ofcourse I was right.

He arrived and his eyes immediately caught a wonderful eyecatcher in the room: a bubbling watercolumn, changing colours every so many seconds. I loved the bubbling sounds, but he didn't.
The nurse immediately tried to track down the electricity cord and after pulling it a strange silence filled the room.

He smiled at me and I could barely catch his eyes behind the very small round windows of his horn glasses. But when I did I was pulled into the past and both of us enjoyed trying to find out the reasons behind the problems of my sons.

My son has to wait for the EEG, but the ECG showed just one lead with problems, so that might be a technical flaw of the instrument or a reason for the cardiologist to meet us.

When we went home I smiled all the way.

Sometimes it's soooo good to see someone from the past.