The things we have to do

Our second kid is off to college. He’s had a great summer hanging with friends, working his first job at a restaurant in Manhattan and playing lots of soccer.

I’m writing this on Friday and we leave Sunday for the 3 1/2 - 4 hour drive, then will move him in Monday. For weeks (months, really) I’ve been begging him to review all he has to do for school—forms, choosing classes, etc.—because, well, he has ADHD and blows a lot of that stuff off, as those of us with ADHD tend to do. He doesn’t read his email, as those people who are under 20 tend to do, and generally lacks much attention to detail when it’s not about soccer. Plus now that he’s over 18 and going to college, the emails don’t go to me. The response was always something along the lines of, ‘Mom, I GOT IT. I’m good.’ I know for a fact that he’s taken care of a lot of it—had a Zoom with his advisor while we were in Chicago, selected his roommate and his classes, and because he’s on the soccer team, he does have lots of check-ins and reminders from other players and the coaching staff, so I think maybe he does have it covered.

A few weeks ago my husband and I suggested he stop work a week or so before he leaves just to make sure he has time to get everything done that he needs to do. Yeah, ok, bet, he says. Then as his last week rolls around he says he plans to work not just the last full weekend before he leaves but also two days during that week, Wednesday and Thursday.

On Tuesday he grants me a few hours of his time, going through his clothes and shoes which have mostly been scattered across his floor all summer in various stages of clean or dirty which I’m not privy to (at least he’s doing his own laundry). I ask him to make three piles: taking to school, leaving at home and giveaways. Beyond that, nothing has been done to pack. I have of course been doing the Buy Nothing and FB Marketplace searches for lamps and shoe racks and things for his room, so he also goes with me for a few pickups around town.

I made sure he had a physical back in July so that he’d have all he needs in terms of medical stuff. He reported it was all good.

Last week someone contacted him from the school saying he didn’t fill out the medical forms correctly in the portal, that he had to enter in the dates for each vaccination manually in addition to sending the records. I remember doing this for my older son for college, but this school didn’t send me that option. Then Wednesday (4 days before leaving) he learns that he still needs a Tetanus shot and a Meningitis booster. After he argues with us that no one ever said he did, we look through his doctor’s portal (that I’m no longer able to log into because he’s over 18) and there’s a message in the post-appointment notes to make sure he gets the Tetanus and Meningitis shots before he leaves for college. Now, I’m not sure why he didn’t get them during the appointment, but it must’ve been discussed, right? We hastily book him an appointment for Thursday morning at a location close to his work so he can go on his way.

THURSDAY

All good, got the Tetanus, but the doctor at the location he went to says he doesn’t actually need the Meningitis, so he doesn’t get it.

My husband and I go visit him at work that day for a late lunch. After he takes our order he says, “Oh, Mom—I need you to call the cardiologist and have them write me a note that I can play.” Of course I’d told him probably 6 weeks prior he needed to go to the cardiologist (family history thing and he has to go once a year until he’s 19) and made him an appointment which he had to cancel because of work. He said he’d schedule one. He didn’t. I forget about it. When I call, they say they can’t write him a note because he hasn’t been there since 2024 and he’d have to see the doctor first, but no, they don’t have an appointment available on Friday. I plead but no, they can’t squeeze us in.

He’s communicating with his trainer and coach who are asking for this note. He tells them he’s working on it.

It’s now about 3pm. We’re in Manhattan at the very loud restaurant where he works and he’s on the clock until 6. We decide to walk to a cafe to sit outside and make calls to try to find him an appointment at some other cardiologist for the NEXT DAY because the next day is Friday and we leave on Sunday. He starts pre-season on Monday and playing college soccer is something he’s been dreaming about for years.

It’s hot. I wore the wrong sandals that hurt my feet because I didn’t think I’d be walking this much. On the way to the cafe, I call my cardiologist’s office. I have high cholesterol (genetic, womp womp) and have been going for a few years and he’s great. I have to enter all my information just to be put through to talk to someone. I keep getting “I’m sorry, I didn’t understand that” because either my husband is saying something as he tries to call another office or some guy on the street is yelling something and my brain is about to burst. Then it asks me to hold for “one two four minutes” and I’m like 124 minutes?! No way, I’ll call the other office, which I do, and go through the whole entering information, “I’m sorry, that’s not a valid birthday” etc. etc. and when I get the one two four minutes again I finally realize it’s “1 to 4 minutes” and at least that makes me laugh at how dumb I am. I hold for 1 to 4 minutes.

I get someone on the phone and explain the whole situation to her. She’s like I’m not sure we have an appointment and what does he need? I explain his late grandfather’s condition and how he’s been going to a pediatric cardiologist for annual check ups, etc., but I don’t know if it’s an echocardiogram or what, and realize that I’m a terrible mother for not knowing this and not remembering to remind him about getting an appointment but am also at this point so pissed that I’m sitting there on the street and it’s 85 degrees and I’m completely stressed and wondering why he doesn’t ever take me seriously when I ask him if he’s done his stuff?! She looks at his chart (same hospital network, thank GAWD) and says, yeah he needs an echo, which is more involved. She finds the one appointment available for the echo and one with the cardiologist and says ok but I can’t really book this unless you have a referral which you have to get through his PCP. I beg her to book it. I tell her we’ll pay if insurance doesn’t cover it. She says that might not be possible (like they won’t let you pay if you have insurance). She gives me the info and puts me on hold to ask her supervisor what she can do.

I have my husband call the insurance company in the meantime. They won’t let him request the information because, of course, my son is over 18. He calls my son at work and merges the calls to get his permission. They say they need to request the referral from his doctor.

The woman from the cardiologist office, Beatriz, comes back on and says they can hold the appointment, but we have to get the insurance approval by end of day: a referral for the doctor’s appointment, one for the echo and an “authorization” for the echo. She gives me her direct email. It’s about 3:45pm by then.

We text our son that we’ll walk back to his restaurant and meet him outside because we have to call the doctor’s office and he needs to be there to do it (over 18). We get the request in. My husband and I walk to the subway to head home. It’s approximately 100 degrees on the sidewalk and 120 degrees in the station. We get on the train. It’s about 4:30 now.

When we get out of the subway, I get a voicemail from someone else at the cardiologist’s office, Mala, asking me to call. She gives me her cell phone because the office is closed. I call her, get vm and she calls me back! After hours! She says we need to make sure One Medical (the network his doctor belongs to—don’t ask) does the referral the correct way because they often don’t request it through the insurance portal correctly and she doesn’t want there to be an issue with us getting the appointment. I thank her profusely. These people were freaking HEROES.

My husband calls insurance again. Enter your birthday. Enter your zip code. What is your name. Etc. Tells the story. And of course they need my son on the phone.

I’m calling the doctor’s office (hahaha, it’s not an office! It’s a huge stupid concierge network and I’m probably calling Omaha or Tucson or whatever) to ask the same thing. Enter your birthday. Enter your zip code. Please hold. They need my son on the phone.

We call him at work. He doesn’t answer and texts us that he can’t talk. They’re mad at him that he keeps looking at his phone. We tell him he has to do this if he wants this appointment to happen (and therefore his first few days of pre-season). I somehow keep myself from reminding him that we had suggested he not work the last week so he could be free to get things done. He runs out to the bathroom to talk to us, first joining my husband’s call, then mine. Insurance then says actually he doesn’t need a referral for this appointment. WTAF. I ask the woman from the insurance company for her name and she just says Christine. Ok, very clear. I email Beatriz and text Mala. Well, I guess we’ve done what we can. I pour myself a spritz (it was at least 5:30 by that point).

In the morning, we check the portal to see if the referral has come through anyway. It did! We email it to Beatriz. My son and I get on the subway—I want to go to make sure everything that needs to happen, happens, and if I have to sit there all day to get this shit done, I will. (NOTE: it goes without saying how privileged I realize we are in this situation to have the resources we need to do all this and how incredibly fucked this country is in terms of healthcare. How do people who have jobs they can’t step out of to spend hours on the phone and/or negotiate three different portals do this?!)

While on the subway, my son gets an email from the cardiologist that they’re missing the referral. I get a phone call from Mt Sinai. We’re both explaining that the insurance company said no referral was needed. They ask for a reference number and I say I don’t have one but…I spoke to Christine. That oughta do it! Welp. My son goes on the portal on his phone to request it again (did I say his phone doesn’t charge and is at 6%?). We arrive 15 minutes early and check in, waiting for them to say something about the referral and that they can’t see us. They say we’re all set. We practically cheer and/or pass out (not actually funny because my husband did pass out two days prior when the four of us are out for the last dinner before the kids leave—what a week I’m having!).

He has his first appointment for the echo, all good. We then wait to see the cardiologist which is at 11:30. While waiting to go in, he gets another message from his school saying that he does still need to do the Meningitis shot. Plus, the immunization records we sent in are only half usable—the ones from before he was with his current doctor don’t have the proper dates or locations. He calls the person at the school in charge of this to double check and she says that yes, without having these things by 2pm, which is in less than 3 hours, he won’t be on the list to get his dorm key on Monday. I was like, “Wait, we’re just hearing about this and you’re now not going to give him his keys?” She explains that she’s been emailing him about this since July 1st. This was not a completely unexpected thing to hear but nevertheless, I was…a little annoyed and in fact quite incredulous. I just looked at him and he was basically like my bad. There was no time for life lessons or I told you so’s—we knew we needed to band together and get it done.

His phone was down to 2% and all the information and logins we needed were on that phone. I run out and buy a magnetic charger since there’s a problem with the port (did I say that I had repeatedly asked him to go get a new phone?). He books an appointment for the Meningitis shot a few blocks away and we decide we’ll ask there about the vaccination records. He goes into his cardiologist appointment. They take his blood pressure, which is very high. Duh. We explain the situation.

Cardiologist is great. I highly recommend Mt Sinai, btw.

We fast-walk to the next doctor for the shot. The people who do the shots and blood work are on lunch and will be back at 1, in 20 minutes. I ask about the vaccination records. He plugs the charger in and it turns out it’s a “slow charger” so we have to do everything on the phone with it sitting on top of the charger.

The records they give me are the same ones he had already submitted and the only ones they have in the system. I have to call his old pediatrician who administered the shots. The office is, of course, now permanently closed. No phone, no website. It’s been years. I’m spiraling. I have my husband look at my computer for old records we sent to his elementary school. Then I remember he had gone to another pediatrician after that first one! I struggle to remember her name but find it in old emails and call the office. She says they changed the system and can’t see his records. Gah! But wait, she says, she can check with NYC immunization portal or something like that. She puts me on hold for possibly 55 years or less than a few minutes—not sure which. She got it. Would I like it emailed? Katie, I LOVE YOU.

He gets the Meningitis shot, uploads the record. I get the email from Katie. It’s forwarded. It’s about 1:15pm, 45 minutes before he was cut off from moving in and attending the first meeting for new players and their families and going to the first practice.

I, too, was the kid who would blow things off and I know how awful it feels to have things hanging over you, or worse, that pang of regret that you didn’t do what you had to do. I have tried to tell him this and that now that I’m older and wiser (lol) I try to do it differently and that he can learn now instead of waiting. While it will still be a struggle for him because of the way our brains are wired, I think, after this, he may actually get it.

I’m also so very thankful that in this new normal of portals and AI assistants and enter your information phone systems, there are still people like Beatriz and Mala and Katie who will work hard to help.

Update: We drove to school on Sunday. He got his ID and his key. We moved him in Monday and he even let us help unpack and organize some things, put up posters (which are now sometimes made of polyester?!). I managed to learn after a few times doing this to phrase things a certain way, like “What if we put this here?” or “Is this a good spot for the white lamp?” or “I’m not sure that will work because of X,Y, Z” and if he still wants to do it that way, so be it. I guess I’m starting to get it, too.