your birth Elisabeth was a struggle, a living struggle. Priscilla, your Mom, was never happier or healthier, than the moment, from the first moments, she was with you. Walking, laughing, happy.- free. As I followed through teaching English to the Khmer people ( relocated from Cambodia’s killing fields to a massive South Bronx apartment complex -193rd street -all mailboxes broken -) Saturdays, your mother and you sat and watched TV in the Khmer children’s room. Your first TV? Women’s mud wrestling.
No chairs; you sat on a flat mattress. I taught standing for four hours on.The living room was large with wooden floors and open windows so summer mosquitoes could have their fill. You were there with us.
Elisabeth, as you work with your families, your patients, at MSK, the Khmer’s are with you. You were there. There.
Then, right after my September 2nd birthday, dr Strongin ( he had straight brown hair till the day of your birth, then a permanent wave ) placed your high risk lupus pregnancy mother in New York Hospital for, till your both. She, and you,, were away from me almost a month.
I drove our little orange VW Beattie down to mid town Manhattan from Parkchester in the Bronx (2033 McGraw Avenue ) everyday – but Saturday – to sped evenings with you.
Mommy loves super rich Vanilla Peppermint Park shakes. What a big ice cream parlour on the corner on 3nd Avenue. All your doctor pre birth visits ended up there. Vanilla on Vanilla.
Mommy had her own basement room at New York Hospital. Visiting her I always parked one block away by Sotheby’s Art Auction Gallery. Dead end street, at that time, and I always could get parking before 6 o’clock. Priscilla, your Mom, has a sonogram everyday. Everyday, but no birthing progress. ( I think you liked it inside. ) And then, they decided to induce with Potissum.
There were 4 partners with the OB/GYN practice, one woman, Dr James, and who would deliver you was based on timing. You and mommy were induced from ‘zero.’’ Strongin was there but didn’t break Mommy’s waters: Dr Xavier did, a chief resident or intern. They called for her over the loud speaker. She had the smallest hands on staff. ( The nurse told me when I asked, )
You were a ‘water hard broken water baby.’
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