The door cracked open and ushered in Dr. D. "Where do you want to start?", she questioned. I fired questions and she responded ably with her gray spiky hair nodding and her kind green-shadowed eyes offering concern.. The conversation was peppered with words like slowed growth, reflux, medication x, medication y, muscle disorder, upper g.i. test, sensory disorder, sleep aid, side effects. And after all was said and done, quality of life.
She peered over her square black glasses and settled her eyes on me, "I can't change his state. My goal is to make him comfortable, to give you and him some quality of life." The name
Make him comfortable. I remembered those words from my days as a CNA with the elderly. It was code for Not Much Time Left. Not that there is an immediate threat to
The security lady smiled at me compassionately on the way out. I wondered how many moms she sees in a day like me--walking out the glass doors with a little one pressed up against tear-filled cheeks.