Sweet Destiny by Rochelle Alers

Author:Rochelle Alers
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2011-10-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Mia sat on a stool in one of the two examining rooms, entering notes in the file of a two-year-old boy with a mouthful of cavities who fidgeted uncontrollably in his mother’s lap. The child was slightly underweight, undersize, developmentally delayed and had missed vaccinations that should’ve been administered by the time he was a year and a half. His mother had called to cancel her Monday afternoon appointment because she hadn’t been feeling well. Mia had the receptionist call her back and reschedule the appointment for Thursday after she reviewed the toddler’s chart.

“I’m going to give your son DTaP.”

Kelly Webster tightened her grip on her squirming son. “What’s that, Dr. Eaton?”

Mia glanced up at the rawboned woman who had given birth to six children in nine years, the last one was only now three months old. Although she was only twenty-seven, a year younger than Mia, she appeared years older. “It’s a vaccination to protect Harry from diphtheria, tetanus and whooping cough. He received his first one at two months, the second at four months and the third at six months. The booster may be given as early as a year, but only if it has been six months since the previous one. Harry has an unusual amount of cavities for a child his age. Are you putting him to bed with a bottle?”

Pale blue eyes brimming with tears focused on Dr. Mia Eaton, who wore a plaid flannel shirt and jeans under a white lab coat. She was a welcome change from the family doctor who’d delivered three of her children before she’d opted to have the remaining three in a hospital. She, like most of Dr. Lyman’s patients, was accustomed to his gruff manner and threats about reporting parents to Child Protective Services if he suspected abuse or neglect.

Kelly shook her head. “No. But Harry cries for pop during the day.”

Mia’s hand stilled as she struggled not to become angry at the child’s mother. “You’re giving him sodas instead of milk?”

Closing her eyes, Kelly sighed in exasperation. When she opened them, they glistened with unshed tears. “I try not to give it to him, but he won’t stop crying. Whenever I don’t have milk in the house I give my kids whatever I have.”

“You run out of milk?”

“Yes. My husband is out of work because he slipped and broke his leg, so money has been tight.”

“The sugar in the soda is rotting your son’s teeth. It’s also making the boy hyperactive. That’s why he can’t sit still for long. Because you have Medicaid, I want you to take him to a dentist as soon as possible.” Mia flipped through the patient’s chart, looking for the page with his parents’ financial information. “I see in the file that you receive food stamps.”

A nervous smile parted Kelly Webster’s lips. “Yes, but it’s not enough. I usually run out of milk and bread before the end of the month.”

“Are you aware that you’re eligible for WIC?” Mia had morphed from doctor into social worker.

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