Devotion C.B

7

"There she is. Always thinking she's right. That she's better than everyone else. Get off your fucking high horse. You're a pathetic addict who can't get her shit together for two seconds to even properly care for our daughter. Your fucking friends cared for her whilst you were in rehab!" He exclaimed, my eyes beginning to sting.

"You know, I might be a fuck up, but at least I'm not a liar. You really think you can be best friends with the people who fed into my addiction, and not touch a single substance? You belittled me time and time again, when you were doing the exact same thing, weren't you? You want to talk about being pathetic? I can own up to my shit, but you'll always be worse. You can look like daddy's perfect church boy all you want, but we both know you did the cocaine that night, so if you want to act like I'm the biggest fuck up, go ahead. But at least I'm clean and sober now. Are you?" I cocked an eyebrow, my lips pursed out of annoyance as I watched him fidget under my gaze.

"You were the drug whore. I didn't do shit" He snapped and I couldn't help but chuckle.

"Yeah. That's why you were so pissed about the weed, isn't it? Always wanted to look like the good guy. Congratu-fucking-lations Gabriel. You'll always be better than me. That's why Gemma begs every single Friday to stay with Colby and I. Because you're always better than me"

I could see the tension rise under his skin, but before he could defend himself, there was a knock on the door before it opened, the man in a white coat reentering the room.

"She's still out?" He asked and I cleared my throat, nodding.

"Alright, I'll lower my voice" He nodded, taking a seat on the stool. "Her scans came back good. They appear healthy" He said softly, showing us the Xrays. "Her lungs are small for her age" he noted and I nodded slowly, gnawing on my lower lip as I tried to stay calm. "We checked for bacteria, she's clean as a whistle. I know we were concerned about Asthma, but I don't think that's something to be too concerned with right now. I'd definitely keep it in mind as she gets older" He eyed both Gabe and I, myself nodding.

"So she doesn't have Asthma?" I confirmed, glancing between the doctor and my daughter.

"Correct. As of right now, I don't see clear symptoms. Yes, her attack, if we want to call it that, had similar signs, which is why I'm saying we should definitely keep it in mind as she gets older. Again, with her lungs being on the smaller side it could make things interesting. My personal opinion is that she got overworked and overwhelmed, and as she tried to inhale to breathe, her lungs couldn't keep up. When you inhale, they fill with air, when you exhale, they deflate" He explained and I nodded, looking over at my sleeping daughter, watching her chest slowly rise and fall. "When you begin to hyperventilate, it overworks. It's going at a quicker pace of up down up down" He continued. "Which led to the gasping, and the gasping could make her wheeze from the quick air intake. I wouldn't say she had a panic attack, or an anxiety attack or that she has Asthma and needs an inhaler. My professional opinion is that her lungs, which are already more undeveloped from when she was a baby, compared to where they should be now, got overworked" He explained and I blinked away the tears, composing myself as I nodded, guilt bubbling in my stomach at the thought of Gemma having any sort if medical problem.

Was it the preeclampsia? The low iron? Being born early?

"What does this mean for the future? She's going to cry, and yell. She's a toddler" I asked, the doctor nodding.

"I'm not saying you have to give into the tantrum, but maybe try and distract. Refocus her before she can go to that point again. Obviously she is a toddler, and they want what they want, when they want it" He chuckled, "I know it isn't ideal to play the trade game. Say she starts crying because you said no to a toy. Try offering her something of similar reward. Maybe something she loves to do.. get her mind refocused to something you can give her, rather than something you can't give her. I understand that it kind of defeats the purpose of discipline and not giving into everything they want. I've got an 8 year old at home, I get how backwards it sort of sounds.. but given the circumstances right now, I'd like to not overwork her lungs. Obviously crying is unavoidable, but it takes a lot to really get to hyperventilating"