Running on Insulin

Chapter 33

Samantha's Pediatrician was a woman with blonde hair, brown eyes and a very friendly demeanour. When we told her we were fostering and then adopting Samantha, her furrowed eyes brightened.

"I've submitted so many reports to DCS about Samantha. When her father would bother to bring her for her appointments. There were periods of time I thought Samantha might be dead, because we'd send emails and leave voice messages and no one would get back to us. I worry so much about that girl."

"You're a mandated reporter, aren't you?" Jenna asked.

"I am. But I can only report what I see. I can't make DCS do their jobs. And you know enough about her father, he always managed to get away with his abuse."

She went over Samantha's medical history which was pretty insignificant other than the diabetes and abuse (yes, those are significant). She was otherwise fairly healthy in terms of what the doctor had ever seen her about.

She had reports from the times Samantha's dad had landed her in the hospital or her diabetes had, but otherwise, Samantha had only had some of the routine illnesses of childhood. She had all her vaccines, and had had chicken pox.

"Her records are fully complete until her mom passed away," the doctor said. "That's when they become less reliable."

Passed away, I thought. More like murdered.

We went over a few more things and agreed to bring Samantha in for a physical later in the week. We made the appointment on our way out and headed to the endocrinologist.

Her endocrinologist was also a friendly doctor. He expressed many of the same concerns the Pediatrician had, and stated that he barely had a baseline of her blood work because her father didn't bring her as regularly as he should.

"Once or twice a year, maybe," he said. "I like to see my diabetic patients every four months or so. Bloodwork should be done every four months and she should be getting eye exams every year. I don't even know if she's ever had one."

"We should book one for her," I said to Jenna. She nodded.

The doctor gave us some advice on how to treat highs and lows and set us up with some classes through his clinic that would teach us how to treat Samantha's diabetes.

"Can I ask you something?" The doctor asked us.

"Sure," I said.

"Can Samantha talk?"

"What?" I asked. It was such a strange question, I didn't think k I heard him correctly.

"Never in the years I've been treating her have I heard Samantha speak. The occasions that her father would bother to bring her to the office, he did all the talking. He claimed she was doing fine and taking all her medications and such, but I never fully believed him and he always answered for Samantha. It made me wonder if she can even speak."

"She can speak. She's a bright kid. Her father," I sighed. "Her father did a real number on her."

He asked us to book an appointment for Samantha and said he'd call the Pediatrician to get her to perform the blood work. We booked a follow up for a week after the Pediatrician appointment.

"Samantha's not going to know what hit her with all these appointments," I said. 

"But at least we'll know where she stands from a proper health view," Jenna said. It was still early, just noon, so Jenna and I headed home for lunch.

Josh was up and we could hear him drumming in the basement. I went downstairs while Jenna went into the kitchen to throw something together for lunch.

"Yo," I said to Josh as I came down the stairs.

"Yo to you too," Josh said, putting down his drumsticks. "How'd it all go?"

"Good. I guess," I said.

"You guess?" Josh looked at me with an eyebrow raised.

"Well, her endocrinologist didn't even know she can speak. Her father never let her talk in the office and I'm guessing she never tried. Unsurprisingly, he never took her as often as he should have. Her Pediatrician is nice but also said after her mom died, she stopped seeing Samantha as often, and when she did, usually sent a report to DCS. She's just as frustrated as we are. Probably more so, that Samantha kept getting sent back to him."

"Huh. So what's the plan?"

"We've made appointments for her, and we have to take her to get her eyes checked, because as far as anyone knows, she hasn't seen an eye doctor. Come to think of it, we should also consider a dentist. I'll have to ask her if she has one."

"I meant what's the plan with you and the kid?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Are you still planning on adopting her?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't we?"

"I dunno. Just sounds like she's going to be a lot of work. Do you really want to take on all the problems she has?"

"Do you seriously want to go down that road, Josh? Because it won't end well for you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Josh asked angrily.

"That means that we committed to adopting Samantha and that hasn't changed. If you have a problem with that, either you need to work it out or shut up. Because she's going to be a part of our family. And you're a part of that family. But if you can't accept Samantha as part of our family, you know where the door is."

"Whoa!" Josh said, putting his hands up in defence, even though I wasn't making any moves to indicate I was about to hit him. "I'm just asking if you're aware of what you're taking on? You're not just adopting a kid. You're adopting a kid who's coming with a lot of heavy baggage. And you have a lot of your own baggage to deal with on your own. Are you sure you can handle it?"

I looked at Josh. Right in the eye, and saw concern in his eyes.

"I have heard, probably the worst that Samantha has seen. And it didn't send me spiralling. I mean, after the doctor sent her out of his office I cried, but I didn't have any other issues to deal with. None of the bad stuff came up.

I think I need Samantha, with all her problems, as much as she needs us."

"Just remember, she's just a kid. A kid with enough of her own problems. Don't let yourself become hers, too."

"I won't," I said.

"You two are amazing. I can't believe you got me a niece," Josh smiled.

I pulled him into a hug.

"Yeah. We did it all for you," I laughed. "Now, Jenna's got something going for lunch. Let's go see."