Never ask a doctor for directions or Status Ugly: pending.

I’m posting this early because it is going to be a busy day, my friends.

I’m going to Sydney to take Ivy to an Immunologist.

It seems that when you stand up for yourself it earns you the right to be fast tracked.

I’m not quite sure how it happened. My head is still spinning.

David is skeptical. He thinks the paed has an agenda. Whatever. So do I;

To get my baby well before Winter.

My hectic social life (can anyone hear that sarcasm echoing in the background?) will have to take a back seat this week.

Today we will meet an immunologist for the first time in our journey to Ivy’s health.

We have to go to Westmead Children’s Hospital; the hospital that William died in. The hospital that induces a panic attack everytime I think about walking in there. The hospital that whispers of hope and yet…and yet snatches it away all too quickly.

If this is some kind of weird cosmic emotional test, please let it play out well.

Damn, where are those crazy pills, now?

The paed gave us directions to the clinic. When I say that, I mean it went something like this;

Paed: (please read with almost no breaths in between words and very fast) “What I remember of Westmead is that you walk through the doors and it’s big. Very big. You turn right and walk up the corridor, past a coffee place… I think it’s a Starbucks. I can’t remember the exact directions but I can remember the type of coffee they sell, how wrong is that? Says alot about my life. Anyway, you turn right after the Starbucks. I think. If that’s not right, there is an information desk in there somewhere”.

Me: (please read in a very slow, country bumpkin way) ”Yeah, r i g h t… thanks for that”.

Note to self: Do not ever, ever ask a doctor for directions.

On Wednesday or Thursday we will go to see the paed. I need to see him. I want to address trust issues, make sure that everything is… not too weird.

Dave and I have had huge discussions on the paediatrician’s personality type (a hobby of Dave’s) and how this would be best addressed. I just know that I need to work out if I can trust him anymore because when it comes down to it, if there is no trust, there is nothing.

The following Friday – not this one, it’s Mum’s 60th 15th birthday. Think it through, my friends. Have you worked it out yet? Anyway, that’s another post. The following Friday we are off to meet the leading expert in Australia on pemphigus. What’s more, I think she is even more excited to meet us than we are to meet her!

Can I just pause here to say I really appreciate the paediatrician when he is organised.

Someone commented that perhaps we could send some ‘balls’ to the paed… I think Australia Post is on it!