By Rosie Preston
Warning: this article is not for the weak of stomach!
As I was leaving my doctor’s office yesterday, I had a sigh of relief, as the diagnosis was good. For over two years, I have managed to keep my level to the same number as having Stage 3 kidney disease. My doctor said he was proud of me. He had advised me to eat mostly vegetables and fruit and a small amount of meat. I did not inform him that I really had not changed anything about my diet except for eating more ice cream than I’ve ever eaten until the COVID-19 changed our world. I’m not a very good patient, apparently.
As I left the office, I was in a big hurry to pick up my granddaughter from school and only had fifteen minutes to do it. I suddenly stopped cold in my tracks. In front of me was a young man holding a tiny baby up by its leg.
“Oh lordy, oh, Lordy,” the young man was saying over and over.
At first, I was in attack mode, thinking he was abusing the child, but when I looked closer, my caretaking experience went into emergency mode. The poor little baby was covered with poop all the way down its legs while also running down the young man’s arm and pants. I told him to just hold still because I was going to help him, explaining that I had many years of daycare experience under my belt.
I first asked the young man if he had a blanket that we could lie the baby on. She was crying and a real little mover, but I somehow managed to get a hold of the little girl (she was wearing a pink onesie) and placed her gently on the bench. A man walked over, and I didn’t ask for his help; I told him to go into the restroom and bring back a lot of toilet tissue and wet hand drying towels. The man, who was now as invested in the baby as much as I was, com-plied. I then I instructed the young man, who was also the baby’s dad, to go to said restroom and get clean himself up. He gladly left us.
The kind gentleman returned with the supplies from the restroom. He stood a bit back and watched. I’m pretty sure my hands were covered with poop and had spread to my dress. I didn’t think (or smell) as I went back in time and wondered how many hundreds of times, I’d done this as I managed to concentrate on getting this little girl happy. Luckily, it didn’t take long. By the time I removed the baby’s onesie and placed a clean diaper on her, a professional lady wearing a Gadsden Regional name tag (with the last name of Rice) took over holding the baby. I wish I had asked for her first name, but I was in a hurry and needed to call Episcopal Day School and tell them I would be a few minutes late.
The now-clean dad eventually returned. That is, I thought he was completely poop-free when the nice gentleman saw poop on the back of his shirt.
“Is this ever going to end?” I asked myself with a smile.
By the time it was all over, everyone was smiling. I asked the dad if he would please give me his phone number and permission to print the baby’s photo with me in The Messenger newspaper. So here we are together. If you know the baby’s family, perhaps you will reach out and tell them that you saw their little baby who had her dad and three strangers turn her into the star of this column!
The baby girl, whose name is Giovanni, is around five weeks old. Her mother’s name is Andrenetta Jones and her dad’s name is Nicholas Goggins. As I was leaving, I told Nicholas that this episode was not a coincidence but a blessing, because this baby girl had won the hearts of the three strangers who helped him and his precious baby girl.
I was walking to my car when I realized the strangers were angels unaware. They showed up when help was desperately needed and gave comfort and care to a precious baby girl!
I had just left my kidneys doctor’s office when this event occurred. Dr. Ramesh Chellamuthu, (MD, MBA) is a wonderful doctor and has a very caring and efficient staff that gives patients great customer service. It’s so true that a doctor’s reputation depends on the people you meet when you first enter his or her office.
Keep Smiling, Rosie
Please e-mail me at firstname.lastname@example.org.