So after a better night’s sleep, we marched ourselves smartly over to the hospital to see Dr. D, as we call him for short. It’s quite a long piece. You have to walk a block and a half from The Children’s House, cross a street (or two, if there’s construction, as there was this time) and down the main loop, hang a left before the old part of the hospital, take two escalators down, and take a long, underground walk, before finding yourself in the lower level of the outpatient centre. Then you take the elevators up to floor 8 (Plastics) and proceed to wait.
Usually the people waiting for plastics don’t look as in need of medical attention as the ones in neurology (floor 5). In neurology, you sometimes see people on gurneys. But one of the last times I was up in Plastics, I saw a really cute Hispanic boy, of about 8 or 9, with half his face burned and scarred.
This time we didn’t have to wait long in the main part, and were taken back to a room pretty quickly. After that *everything* went slowly. We waited a good long time for Dr. Dorafshar, only to have his assistant come in and tell us that he was in surgery.
The room was *hot* and there were five of us in a room intended for four, so Chad had to sit on the floor.
We kept ourselves entertained.
We ate snacks (well, Chad “The Prepared” did,)
And had way too much fun watching him primp, after he got too hot and took his sweatshirt off.
We laughed at corny jokes, and things I’m sure that no-one else would find funny, and that we will never find funny again. I think we may have been suffering from slight oxygen deprivation, from being packed in the room like chicken-wings in a crock-pot.
Then at long last, Dr. D(orafshar) came in, in *state.* Which means we saw him coming down the hall surrounded by female assistants toting clipboards. Lest you get the wrong impression, the clipboards were all they were toting: Dr. D. pulled his own micro-suitcase.
Dr. Dorafshar, so you know what he looks like, is of average height, of a slightly athletic build (all that walking), good-looking in an average way, and a dresser. Not the furniture kind: By “dresser” I mean he dresses well. For example, he was fresh out of surgery, and his scrubs were unwrinkled, he was clean shaven, his black clogs had little silver studs between the sole and the upper, and he wore black socks to match. *That* kind of dresser. He always looks impeccable. He must be in his mid-to-late thirties, yet he gives the distinct impression of being much, much younger. Rather boyish, at times, especially when enthusiastic. I’m always surprised to see that his hair is thinning. Dr. D. likes to think about becoming famous. I’m not being sarcastic: He rejoices greatly at each step on the road to fame. He told us this time with boyish enthusiasm, “My practice is getting busier!” He really is climbing up the ladder, so to speak, very nicely. He was on the team of Drs. for this surgery (He actually missed Katya’s pre-op physical ’cause it was running late), and headed up this one (utilizing things he learned from Katya’s surgery).
Dr. Dorafshar’s most striking feature would be his accent: A puzzling mix of British and something Arabic. He often speaks carefully, as if weighing each syllable. Having immigrated to England at age the age of two, I can hardly attribute it to lack of fluency in the English language, so I will assume it stems from a methodical nature. The word on the ward, is that he’s “A big old softie” who really cares about his patients. I can only speak for how I see him treat Katya, but I think he really does care. Dr. D did a great job on Katya’s head, and we’re all exceedingly fond of him.*
So, to retrace somewhat, Dr. Dorafshar came in pulling his micro-suitcase. Once his Assistant came in, a little later, the room count rose to seven in a room intended for a maximum of four. Like I said, chicken-wings in a crock-pot. I had to stand along the wall with Chad. Both he and the Assistant exclaimed favorably on how much Katya has grown, and Dr. D was pleased over how nice her hair is getting. As well he should be–any length her hair has can be partially attributed to him, because he went outside of his comfort zone and left her hair unshaved during her surgery.
Katya was more comfortable with Dr. Dorafshar and his Assistant, Meghan, this time. I’m sure it helped that her head wasn’t hurting. Actually, after minimal coaxing, she was persuaded to give him a hug–briefly, because Katya is very “fly-by-night”– but of her own accord she kissed him, as-well! He was tickled–so tickled, in fact, that when his assistant came in, he–without waiting for an opening in the conversation– told her, “She gave me a kiss!” and seemed very pleased about it. Katya has hitherto barely tolerated him, so we were all quite surprised. Actually, until he said that, I thought he had kissed her. Kissing isn’t something Katya has been doing very long, and it’s still a shaky skill.
He had to take pictures of her head again, and Katya was by that time really tired, but she sat nicely, and even tried to smile at first. Dr. D has Katya pegged correctly–he said that with her, you have to take lots of pictures, and hope one turns out. This is true. Katya is a very candid person. This is not my best picture of him taking her picture, but I’m saving that one for a compilation of “People Taking Pictures” that I intend to post later this year.
The big question we had pertained to the Large, Nasty Surgery, you know, the one that requires bone grafts to patch her soft-spots. We told him about her soft-spots, and at first he was all “Oh, those would only be a problem if she would get a penetrating injury”. Then mum pointed out that even our family Dr. thought that the sharp corner of a coffee table could cause damage. Dr. D must’ve begun thinking about all the things an active child could fall on, because he felt of her head again, and frowned a little. We asked when she would need surgery done, he initially thought we should “Hold off as long as possible”, but once he thought about it a bit more–and gave Katya’s head an intense and penetrating stare– he strongly encouraged us to have it done this year yet. So that’s the Not So Happy News.
Next up: Katya bids Dr. Carson Farewell
*Disclaimer: I apologize, Dr.D, if this character sketch makes you uncomfortable. I had to write a character study for my school, so I *hope* you feel flattered! Please know that we really, really do like you!