This past week we were struck by two unsuspecting health issues. During church last week Ella started complaining about a toothache. To be honest, we didn’t think much of it, she doesn’t have the best teeth and she had just been to the dentist to have a cavity filled. However, in the morning when the roof of her mouth and gum had swollen to the point of virtually covering her tooth, we took notice. We’ve had her on antibiotics with little response. She doesn’t talk much unless it is to remind us her pain meds are wearing off. So for the past few days Ella has gotten lots of attention and minimal hours in school. Now it’s Mia’s turn.
So we hopped in the car, and along with Denise, a Brasilian friend, we were able to experience our first trip to an “Emergency Room.” The first hospital we went to was closed for painting. So we went to a different one that had about 10 people sitting on a bench in the entrance. A trail of blood drops were leading to another room while flies went wherever they pleased. We waited. No one took our names. No one asked about what the health complaint was. There certainly was no asking about insurance. There were no charts to be seen nor did anyone have an ID armband. The phone rang and rang and no one answered it. Then a doctor stepped around a corner and motioned us in. There was no nurse, no secretary, no janitor. Only that one doctor who was sweating because he had a long patient list since the other hospital was closed and apparently had no one to help him. Brin lent a hand. Mia, however, was probably the most miffed by the whole experience. I don’t think she saw what was coming. Two stitches later she’s a little wiser and more leery than ever about any kind of medicine.
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