I am suffering from form filling out, rehashing the same info over and over, asking my kids to use quiet bodies and voices and general waiting room burn out. I know we are blessed. I see some of the other families in the same waiting rooms and I know we are lucky. I shouldn’t complain. We have access to great resources that have changed the way we live our day-to-day life for the better. Michael has come so far and Patrick has been incredibly patient (for the most part) surrendering all his mommy attention and focus to his brother. I give Patrick a lot of shit because he can be
a little shit challenging, but when it comes down to it, I think it is fair to say that he was dealt an equally challenging hand. Michael may be the one who requires all the screenings and therapies but it is Patrick that sits by my side flipping through worn down sticky waiting room books by himself because I am too busy filling out another set of forms.
Why isn’t there some sort of universal hospital/clinic charting system?!
All the forms I fill out are similar, with only slight variations of the same questions. In some I have to circle milestones, while others I check a box. Some offer one line to comment on the general characteristics of my child, while others give me a ridiculously small box to chicken scratch a few words in.
I should only have to fill out our address, phone and emergency contact once per hospital/clinic. Why is it on the top of every form?
I will never forget my kids’ birthday because by the time they go into kindergarten I will have filled out a hundred plus forms with their birth date.
The paper work is frustrating, but was makes me the most frustrated is that because the forms are so similar and there are so many of them it is all too easy to begin to “cliff notes” your kids’ info. And once you start telling the abridged version of your kids’ story you start missing crucial pieces. The plot twist that you may leave out could be the piece of the puzzle that the doctor, specialist or therapist needs to properly evaluate your kid. I do my best to never leave anything out but I am a mom regurgitating information about my kid for the 100th time. There is most likely an over-tired toddler in my lap, a bored four-year-old pulling on my shirt sleeve and of course my Einstein of a 6-year-old who is recanting his latest adventure in learning to anyone who will listen.
Did you know that when the lab lady took my “hemoglaben” she was checking to see if my brain was getting oxygen. You need oxygen. What happens to hemo… what was that called again? Oh yeah, right “hemoglaben” What happens to “hemoglaben” when you swim under water? I can swim under water for a long time if I have my nose goggles. We have a pool……
I am sure there are right to privacy laws that keep a universal computer database of medical info from becoming a reality but a mom can dream, right? Waiting rooms are a part of our life. I get it. That isn’t going to change any time soon. What I want is to be able to make the most out of the waiting room time and pull Patrick and Elise up onto my lap and read to them one of the well handled sticky books or listen to what they have to say without any big (or biggest) brother interruptions. Less forms and maybe we can sit in front of the fish tank and find Nemo together instead of me sending them off on a fish hunt while I fill out their brother’s birth date again. Less forms and maybe an option to fill it out online so I can gather my thoughts, take as much time as I need and tell my kid’s story the way it needs to be told.