The International Adoption Clinic gave each of the girls a TB mantle. 2 days later I was supposed to go to my clinic, have someone look at the spot, measure it and fax it back. The nurse I got, at 8:30 am, looked all of about 13 years old. She took all of 7 seconds to inaccurately measure the bumps on the girls’ arms.
“They both have TB,” she announced authoritatively. “Are your other kids coughing yet?”
“No. And I need to see the doctor right now.”
“Really?” she wonders. “Are you on the schedule?”
“No, I’m not on the schedule. I need him to know what is going on.”
“Well..... I’ll see what I can do.”
I took iPhone pictures of the girls’ arms. I emailed them to my friend Beth. I called her no fewer than 3 times. I marched everyone upstairs and told the receptionist my story. I saw the doctor. He remeasured. Lizzie’s measurement is half of what the 13 year old nurse measured. Sadie’s is a bit higher but not by much. He amended the form and faxed it in.
I called Beth to tell her about getting a doctor . “You did the right thing,” she says, not knowing I’d crafted a Voodoo Doll Nurse that I planned to cough on.
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