Two years is too damn long.

Two years is too damn long.

Let me paint a picture.

Your kid is in pain. He's having bowel accidents - the kind that are embarrassing, unpredictable. You pack extra clothing in every bag. You know the location of every public bathroom. You've cleaned up messes in stores, on school field trips, in the car, pretending like this is normal. Like you're not dying inside watching your kid go through this. 

You get told by doctor that it will be a year before you can speak to a paediatrician. 

And if you need a paediatric GI specialist? That's another 12 to 24 months. 

But wait - it gets worse. 

We did get a referral sent in. 

Our family physician, who knows us, who sees my child, who agreed this wasn't normal - sent the referral to a GI. 

They sent it back. 

Denied. 

Not accepted. 

Because it didn't come from a paediatrician. 

Not because my kid doesn't need care. Not because the issue isn't real. 

But because the wrong type of doctor asked for help. 

Back to square one. 

Because in the world of children's healthcare, apparently credentials matter more than urgency, more than lived experience, more than a child's day-to-day suffering. 

Two. Full. Years. 

Two years of missing birthday parties because "what if there's an accident?"

Two years of needing to be within running distance of a toilet. 

Two years of your child feeling like they are "gross" or "bad"

Two years of teachers calling, asking for clean clothes. 

Two years of hearing kids whisper and laugh. Of watching your child shrink into themselves. Of trying to hold it together for them when you want to scream. 

This is not okay. 

And me? I'm everything. 

I'm the nurse. The advocate. The emotional buffer. The calendar juggler. 

I've become a one-woman healthcare system, all while trying to keep my job, my relationship and my sanity intact. 

We're reading medical forums at 2 am, guessing at treatments, adjusting diets, crying behind closed doors so our kid doesn't see how scared we are. 

This is what falling through the cracks looks like. 

So here's what I want you to know - whether you're in this or watching someone who is:

- The isn't about potty trining. Don't insult us with that. 

- This isn't about parenting skills. We're doing the job of ten people. 

- This is about a system that tells families to suffer quietly while it gets around to helping - someday. 

But someone isn't soon enough when your kid's confidence, social life, and joy are unraveling in real time. 

So yeah, we're angry. And we're tired. 

And we'll keep speaking up, even when it's uncomfortable. Even when people would rather we keep this private. Because it's not just about us - it's about every family being told to sit tight while their child misses out on their childhood. 

Two years is too damn long.