No pictures today...you'll understand why by the end of this posting.
Isabel coughed most of the night, but otherwise seemed to sleep well. Her breathing was audibly strained and I freaked out two different times when I awoke and couldn't hear her breathe. We were both up around 6:30 and let Isabel sleep until we had to get ready to meet Minnie in the lobby at 9:00.
Minnie took us back down to the government office to get interviewed and sign the official adoption document. The best way to compare it is to think DMV with the same four or five families that were there the day before (all picking up their children). We sat for over an hour and waited in the second most uncomfortable chair I've ever sat in. The least comfortable chair ever comes later in the day. During our wait we did get to witness a wedding (the office is officially called the "Marriage Registry Office of Shaanxi Civil Affairs Bureau"). All in all, it was a fairly simple visit, although it took almost two hours, because we had to wait again for the notary to do her thing to the documents.
Based on Isabel's breathing and lethargy we decided to take her to the Xi'an Children's Hospital. We left directly from the government office, and hailed our first Xi'an cab. To put it simply without exaggeration, riding in Xi'an is very (not an overindulgent adjective) scary. I thought Beijing was bad...this place makes Beijing look like a cinch. I didn't know it was possible to change lanes nine times in a one block span going 35 miles per hour with cars, bikes, and pedestrians EVERYWHERE. We weaved in and out from lane to lane and veered more than once into what I thought was an "emergency" lane. There were even times when we found ourselves on the other side of the double yellow line heading right for oncoming traffic with presumably just as crazy drivers behind those wheels. Imagine attaching 12 inch sticks 12 inches apart extending from your car all the way around it. At the end of a day or week, parallel parking bumps excluded, how many would remain? I'd suspect they'd all still be there (my Dad is laughing at that). In Xi'an I promise that a cab would lose every single stick in a day, maybe before noon, and some would be lost due to pedestrians and bikes. Hopefully that gives you an idea of how many close-calls we had on our way to the hospital. Just appreciate the calm and safe traffic next time you find yourself in a NYC cab.
We arrived at the hospital and for several seconds after exiting the cab I took myself back to May 18, 2006 at this very spot. This was the precise location where Isabel was left for a better life, and here we were to begin her new life at the same place that her family brought her. It was an eerie full circle moment.
Here's where the day turns worse. We registered at the front desk and had to pay $1.00. We then waited in a crowded hallway to see a doctor in one of four rooms along the hall. These rooms had windows out into the hallway, so there was zero privacy for anyone being seen by the doc. In fact, the next family or two in line to see that doctor would crowd into the 7'x7' room and wait during the current exam. We sat in chairs that ran the entire length down both sides of the hallway. These were the most uncomfortable chairs of all time. At first glance they looked like comfortable egg-like shaped plastic chairs. The only problem was that they were welded to the frame at a forward angle, making it impossible to sit all the way back in the chair while holding a crying 19 month old. While waiting it was interesting to take note of the "split pants" that the Chinese children wear. They are literally crotchless pants for easy access to make #1 or #2 anywhere, including the hallway floor. Some parents pulled over a small waste basket with no liner, while others just watched their little one create a slipping hazard for all who walked by. We were in a different world and felt helpless. Was it worth receiving care here for this issue? We both agreed that had Jackson's breathing reached this point (it has) that we'd take him straight to the ER. Even now, I'm not certain it was worth it. We finally saw the doctor who listened to Isabel's chest and wrote in Chinese on two prescription pads. I thought that was it...get some medicine and go back to the hotel. I was mistaken. Our host Minnie, who I should mention was with us the entire time translating for us, said the doctor had ordered chest x-rays and a blood test. So we were off to another part of the hospital to get those done, but we had to first wait in a long line to pay for those services...a total of $7.00. Once paid, we brought our receipt to the two different exam rooms to get them done. At one point I thought if they shut down this hospital and put it in an historic location in the U.S., they could open it as a museum to show how things were done in the late 1800s. Every exam room seemed bare and primitive with rusty plumbing on the outside of the walls and filth all around. I was perpetually uncomfortable in this place and couldn't wait to get out. After x-ray and blood test we had to wait 30 minutes for the results. The blood test came back negative, but we had to bring the x-ray film back to the doctor we first saw...another wait. She read the film and said Isabel needed medicine for a chest infection. Back to the "concession line" as I called it, to pay for the that. Our total was $25 for a potpourri of medication that we took it up to the second floor, which was worse than the first. On the second floor I literally watched a little boy make drop a deuce on the floor. His mom picked it up with a tissue, set it on top of a garbage can lid, and then walked away. We had to be really choosy picking a waiting room seat on the second floor because most had puddles at the base. Anyway, Isabel finally got the injection, but it wasn't "the" injection. Minnie told us that they injected a little (whatever it was) under her skin and we needed to wait 20 minutes to see if she's allergic. Twenty minutes later it was clear that she wasn't, so we went back to the nurse who injected Isabel and asked for "the" injection. She pointed to another line that looked painfully long and explained that it wasn't simply an injection, but an IV drip that would take 2 hours. Turns out, the potpourri of drugs weren't for us to take home and administer, but rather a cocktail that they put in an IV drip.
At this point, we'd been here three hours and had to be back at the office from the morning to pick up our official adoption document, then go to the "police agency" to get Isabel's passport photo taken, then drop off some documents somewhere else for more notarization. So we left the hospital, without doing the IV, to run those important errands. All in all it took about two hours then headed straight back to the hospital to get Isabel her drugs. We stood in that long line we left hours before and got our number...46. They were on 21 and called a number about every three minutes, so we waited about an hour just to get her set up with the IV. When our number was called we went to the desk where the nurse on the other side had us lay Isabel down on her back. She instructed us to hold down Isabel's arms and legs, and then she shaved a small patch off hair from the front of her head. That's where the IV was inserted, looped, taped several times, and then looped over and taped to her ear before heading up to the bottle with about 100cc's of liquid in it. We had two bottles. There were two rooms to bring the kids while the IV dripped. The IV bottles had loops on the top and there were what looked like big fish hooks hanging from the ceiling hanging over very hard and tiny beds. We laid Isabel down on a bed next to another child (everyone had to double up) and hung her IV from the hook above. In total the IVs took over an hour...then we left for the hotel. We were all exhausted and couldn't thank Minnie enough for spending her entire day with us. She was slated to be with us for about four hours...it turned out to be ten. Thank you Minnie!
Back in the room we fed Isabel some hot oatmeal...she loved it. It was nice to see her finally eat something substantial besides Cheerios. I got her ready for bed and read her a book. She was much more cooperative and interested tonight vs. last...a good sign. After putting her down we realized that neither of us had used the restroom in over 12 hours...that's how little liquid we had during this hectic day. The only thing Leslie ate was a half of banana, and I had a Nature Valley bar. Room service never tasted so good.
I'm counting my blessings knowing that tomorrow will be better, because it certainly can't get any worse.
We did cancel our scheduled visit to see the Terracotta Army tomorrow since we don't know how Isabel will feel. Hopefully we can reschedule for another day this week.
I pray your Monday goes better than ours!
-Keith
Isabel coughed most of the night, but otherwise seemed to sleep well. Her breathing was audibly strained and I freaked out two different times when I awoke and couldn't hear her breathe. We were both up around 6:30 and let Isabel sleep until we had to get ready to meet Minnie in the lobby at 9:00.
Minnie took us back down to the government office to get interviewed and sign the official adoption document. The best way to compare it is to think DMV with the same four or five families that were there the day before (all picking up their children). We sat for over an hour and waited in the second most uncomfortable chair I've ever sat in. The least comfortable chair ever comes later in the day. During our wait we did get to witness a wedding (the office is officially called the "Marriage Registry Office of Shaanxi Civil Affairs Bureau"). All in all, it was a fairly simple visit, although it took almost two hours, because we had to wait again for the notary to do her thing to the documents.
Based on Isabel's breathing and lethargy we decided to take her to the Xi'an Children's Hospital. We left directly from the government office, and hailed our first Xi'an cab. To put it simply without exaggeration, riding in Xi'an is very (not an overindulgent adjective) scary. I thought Beijing was bad...this place makes Beijing look like a cinch. I didn't know it was possible to change lanes nine times in a one block span going 35 miles per hour with cars, bikes, and pedestrians EVERYWHERE. We weaved in and out from lane to lane and veered more than once into what I thought was an "emergency" lane. There were even times when we found ourselves on the other side of the double yellow line heading right for oncoming traffic with presumably just as crazy drivers behind those wheels. Imagine attaching 12 inch sticks 12 inches apart extending from your car all the way around it. At the end of a day or week, parallel parking bumps excluded, how many would remain? I'd suspect they'd all still be there (my Dad is laughing at that). In Xi'an I promise that a cab would lose every single stick in a day, maybe before noon, and some would be lost due to pedestrians and bikes. Hopefully that gives you an idea of how many close-calls we had on our way to the hospital. Just appreciate the calm and safe traffic next time you find yourself in a NYC cab.
We arrived at the hospital and for several seconds after exiting the cab I took myself back to May 18, 2006 at this very spot. This was the precise location where Isabel was left for a better life, and here we were to begin her new life at the same place that her family brought her. It was an eerie full circle moment.
Here's where the day turns worse. We registered at the front desk and had to pay $1.00. We then waited in a crowded hallway to see a doctor in one of four rooms along the hall. These rooms had windows out into the hallway, so there was zero privacy for anyone being seen by the doc. In fact, the next family or two in line to see that doctor would crowd into the 7'x7' room and wait during the current exam. We sat in chairs that ran the entire length down both sides of the hallway. These were the most uncomfortable chairs of all time. At first glance they looked like comfortable egg-like shaped plastic chairs. The only problem was that they were welded to the frame at a forward angle, making it impossible to sit all the way back in the chair while holding a crying 19 month old. While waiting it was interesting to take note of the "split pants" that the Chinese children wear. They are literally crotchless pants for easy access to make #1 or #2 anywhere, including the hallway floor. Some parents pulled over a small waste basket with no liner, while others just watched their little one create a slipping hazard for all who walked by. We were in a different world and felt helpless. Was it worth receiving care here for this issue? We both agreed that had Jackson's breathing reached this point (it has) that we'd take him straight to the ER. Even now, I'm not certain it was worth it. We finally saw the doctor who listened to Isabel's chest and wrote in Chinese on two prescription pads. I thought that was it...get some medicine and go back to the hotel. I was mistaken. Our host Minnie, who I should mention was with us the entire time translating for us, said the doctor had ordered chest x-rays and a blood test. So we were off to another part of the hospital to get those done, but we had to first wait in a long line to pay for those services...a total of $7.00. Once paid, we brought our receipt to the two different exam rooms to get them done. At one point I thought if they shut down this hospital and put it in an historic location in the U.S., they could open it as a museum to show how things were done in the late 1800s. Every exam room seemed bare and primitive with rusty plumbing on the outside of the walls and filth all around. I was perpetually uncomfortable in this place and couldn't wait to get out. After x-ray and blood test we had to wait 30 minutes for the results. The blood test came back negative, but we had to bring the x-ray film back to the doctor we first saw...another wait. She read the film and said Isabel needed medicine for a chest infection. Back to the "concession line" as I called it, to pay for the that. Our total was $25 for a potpourri of medication that we took it up to the second floor, which was worse than the first. On the second floor I literally watched a little boy make drop a deuce on the floor. His mom picked it up with a tissue, set it on top of a garbage can lid, and then walked away. We had to be really choosy picking a waiting room seat on the second floor because most had puddles at the base. Anyway, Isabel finally got the injection, but it wasn't "the" injection. Minnie told us that they injected a little (whatever it was) under her skin and we needed to wait 20 minutes to see if she's allergic. Twenty minutes later it was clear that she wasn't, so we went back to the nurse who injected Isabel and asked for "the" injection. She pointed to another line that looked painfully long and explained that it wasn't simply an injection, but an IV drip that would take 2 hours. Turns out, the potpourri of drugs weren't for us to take home and administer, but rather a cocktail that they put in an IV drip.
At this point, we'd been here three hours and had to be back at the office from the morning to pick up our official adoption document, then go to the "police agency" to get Isabel's passport photo taken, then drop off some documents somewhere else for more notarization. So we left the hospital, without doing the IV, to run those important errands. All in all it took about two hours then headed straight back to the hospital to get Isabel her drugs. We stood in that long line we left hours before and got our number...46. They were on 21 and called a number about every three minutes, so we waited about an hour just to get her set up with the IV. When our number was called we went to the desk where the nurse on the other side had us lay Isabel down on her back. She instructed us to hold down Isabel's arms and legs, and then she shaved a small patch off hair from the front of her head. That's where the IV was inserted, looped, taped several times, and then looped over and taped to her ear before heading up to the bottle with about 100cc's of liquid in it. We had two bottles. There were two rooms to bring the kids while the IV dripped. The IV bottles had loops on the top and there were what looked like big fish hooks hanging from the ceiling hanging over very hard and tiny beds. We laid Isabel down on a bed next to another child (everyone had to double up) and hung her IV from the hook above. In total the IVs took over an hour...then we left for the hotel. We were all exhausted and couldn't thank Minnie enough for spending her entire day with us. She was slated to be with us for about four hours...it turned out to be ten. Thank you Minnie!
Back in the room we fed Isabel some hot oatmeal...she loved it. It was nice to see her finally eat something substantial besides Cheerios. I got her ready for bed and read her a book. She was much more cooperative and interested tonight vs. last...a good sign. After putting her down we realized that neither of us had used the restroom in over 12 hours...that's how little liquid we had during this hectic day. The only thing Leslie ate was a half of banana, and I had a Nature Valley bar. Room service never tasted so good.
I'm counting my blessings knowing that tomorrow will be better, because it certainly can't get any worse.
We did cancel our scheduled visit to see the Terracotta Army tomorrow since we don't know how Isabel will feel. Hopefully we can reschedule for another day this week.
I pray your Monday goes better than ours!
-Keith
5 comments:
OH MY!!!!!!!!! Bless your hearts.... your day certainly doesn't sound like an easy one.
I pray that Isabel feels much better and very soon!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I don't think all the prayers in the world would change the crazy driving in China. I remember being thankful each time we made it from one place to the next.
Hi guys...you have been in my thoughts quite a bit over the last several days. I am so excited you have Isabel with you! So sorry it has been so difficult thus far...I am sure each day will be better and you will feel like a family by the time you are back here in Minni. Thanks for sharing so much and know we are thinking about you back here...All the best, Tom
We are praying that Isabel feels better very soon! You describe what seems like a surreal story, and even with your description I don't know that any of us can fully comprehend how bad it was unless we experienced it ourselves. Let's hope you don't have to relive that again!
Keith and Leslie - We are thinking about you and Isabel and hoping each day gets better. We completely understand how frustrating it can be there. It's insane. We're praying for your safe travels and return!
Kevin, Kristy, Anna (Jiangxi) and Jackson
Yikes. Not much fun at all. In the long run, just a bump in the road though. Hope she bounces back quickly. I would have liked the hospital pics although.....crotchless kids could be kiddie porn in the states.
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