Dad gets to rant :)
We’ve gotten into a fairly good routine for Ben’s therapy - which I’m sure has helped make it much easier on him. We go straight into the kids waiting room and read a book or watch a bit of a movie while we wait. Mr. Bill, the receptionist, usually pops his head in and says hello and offers the kids a treat or toy from his box of goodies. We get the page that they’re ready for Ben and he and I go down the hall to the treatment room. He takes off his shoes, gets on the table and lays down. The technicians put his mask on (a plastic mold of his head to ensure that he’s in the same spot every day) and I cover him up with one of his blankets.
The technicians ask that we wait for Ben in the waiting room. This wasn’t an issue for our first week or so, but Ben has started asking that I be there when his treatment is over. He’s very tired after his treatment and usually wants to be carried out.
I obviously can’t stay in the treatment room and the technicians seem bothered when I hover over their shoulders at the controls. So I stand in the hallway with a twelve inch thick door between Ben and I. Most of the technicians have successfully interpreted the “I don’t follow the rules” look on my face and don’t seem to mind my standing in the hallway for five minutes.
Most of the technicians except for one. And she’s the one who administers most of his treatments. She insists that I return to the waiting room for the entire five minute duration of his treatment. Her only explanation is that only patients are allowed in the area and that I’m technically not a patient. It’s not really that big of a deal, but I’m actually enjoying the conflict. I doubt that it’s as good for her.
We reached a compromise on Friday where she will page the front desk when Ben’s treatment is over. So now I walk him into the patient only area, help get him onto the table, walk back to the waiting area, sit down and then get up and walk back to get him. I guess I should be thankful for the exercise.
