First, I just want to say that I started writing this article in March of 2022. I couldn’t find myself to finish it. This is probably one of the most angerering memories during Millie’s journey… as you will now read:

Millie had several specialists monitoring her 24/7. Her doctor that performed the main surgery was great. But I want to focus on another female doctor who for one week was in charge of rounds. She was a middle aged, blonde, attractive woman. She also had a viper’s tongue. In her defense, she didn’t realize it. During morning rounds, a group of doctors walked around the PICU and gave a short status/summary of the current condition of each patient. That’s usually where we got to hear what the treatment plans were going to be the next few days.

On one occasion, about 23 days into Millie’s journey, this doctor, during morning rounds, gave her evaluation. She looked me dead in the eyes and said, “she’s dying.”  I looked at her in disbelief because she actually said those words to me. Those words actually came out of her mouth. The moment she spoke the truth that I was already aware of, I felt all the other doctors’ stares glued on me. I think I muttered something like, “fuck.” I mean, I knew she was dying, but there was something unnatural of the way that doctor handled herself. I hated her and probably still do. And if she ever reads this, I hope she realizes her expertise can hurt people. 

It was so easy for her to say something like that. I was impressed at how easily it rolled off her tongue. I walked back into Millie’s room straight to her small crib and stared at her open heart, her multiple wires attached to every part of her soft body and at her half open left eye.

The next day during morning rounds, my husband stood outside the room waiting for the doctors to make their way to Millie. My husband (annoying but loving), said to this doctor, “I don’t want you to talk to my wife anymore. You make her uncomfortable and I prohibit you from talking to her. Anything you want to say regarding Millie’s health needs to be addressed to another doctor and then communicated to us.” I loved it. Sure enough, later that day, the hospital’s director came to talk to us. He was a lot more compassionate. On the verge of tears, he told my husband and nieces how bad Millie was.

Later that evening, the blonde, attractive female doctor came to Millie’s room. I was holding Millie that day. The doctor walked in and asked me, “How do you see Millie?” I didn’t realize it then but that was her strategy to get me to say that Millie was dying. Does that make sense? She wanted me to actually say it. Then she said, “I apologize for telling you something so harsh in front of everyone. I should have told you separately.” As she said that, I remember thinking, this lady really had no idea what it was that bothered me. What bothered me were the words she used and the tone in which she said them. She was stuck in her white doctor gown which she felt gave her the authority to divulge those awful words to me without hesitation…”she’s dying.” Till this day, I want to curse at her. I hope that one day she realizes there’s a way to relay devastating information. Clearly she wasn’t capable of that that.